


The Mechanic

by BoneeShuddIn



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Development, Consensual Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, I'm just making it up as I go, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Sex, Some Plot, Vouyerism, never said it was a good plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2020-12-09 03:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneeShuddIn/pseuds/BoneeShuddIn
Summary: Guilty for letting an old man take a bullet for him, Troy sets out to find the old man's only child Nate Scars to relay the news. Troy's in for a real treat once he realizes the type of person Nate really is.





	1. Nate Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place before the events of Borderlands 3  
Been a while since I've written smut so I might be a little rusty

Troy’s mind grew foggy. He could barely register the musky, humid air that wrapped around his body. The misty heat that made him dread the fur from his coat as it sagged down his human arm, his fingers threaded through beautiful golden strands.

“Hmmn…” He groaned in pleasure watching plump pink lips slide up to the tip of his cock, kissing the saliva covered hood. “Shit…” he muttered, swallowing hard as the blonde's tongue darted out and licked his under shaft, playfully drifting down to his hilt. She lifted his cock with one of her oil-stained hands and kissed the crease where his cock met his balls, and that sweet red tongue of hers came out and licked. She slowly traversed downwards, her nose pressed to the side of his cock, inhaling his scent and sighing softly, tickling his skin with her breath. Her bright green eyes seemed to shine with excitement as she watched his face, never breaking contact with his own eyes. She was enjoying being watched, and he was enjoying watching her. How did he even end up like this? He could barely remember and a sharp pleasure drew his mind back to the girl on her knees. She had sucked one of his nuts into her mouth, tenderly sucking it like it was a succulent morsel. Her hand traveled up the length of his cock, squeezing, her thin fingers wrapping around his girth and up to his tip. She rotated her hand over the tip squeezing it and rubbing his slit with her thumb, spreading out the precum that oozed out. He sighed softly, moving his fingers through her hair, closing his eyes when he felt her lips close around his cock again. He leaned his head back, resting it against the wooden wall behind him, moaning lowly as his mind fogged over once again.

_________________________________________

~***~ 32 hours ago ~***~

“Shit, so this is where the old man lived?” Tyreen Calypso’s judgmental voice played at Troy's ears, the taller Calypso grunting in response. They stood inside a metal shack, set deep into the housing of the Children of the Vault. There really was nothing else to call it. It was small, Troy had to hunch over just so he could get into the doorway. It was set up like a one-bedroom house, the front door opening up to a living area with a couch with too many holes in it, about three or four crates with a wooden board on top of them for a makeshift coffee table, and an old black and white television across from the couch against the back wall. To the right of the makeshift living space is an open “kitchen” which was nothing more than an old refrigerator stuffed into the corner of the room with a series of old tables and a hot pan beside it. There were two doors, one lead to the bedroom, Troy thought, and the other the bathroom. The metal roof and walls allowed small gaps of sunlight to beam into the small space, lighting it up just enough for the twins to see how… subpar this place was.

“Pretty clean for a guy that has a shit workshop,” Troy mused, picking up a picture frame from the coffee table. It was a traditional family phototype, a mom and dad standing next to each other. The father Troy recognized immediately as Walker, the Chief mechanic and the reason why they were standing inside this shit hole. In front of Walker was a kid with messy wild blonde hair and a huge grin on his face, holding onto two skag pups. Troy kind of smiled a little, getting a closer look at the displeased look on the mom's face and the exasperated look on Walkers.

“Why are we here again?” Tyreen huffed, tossing something she had picked up across the room, not seeming to care that it shattered and fell to the ground.

“He asked me to find the recording in his house,” Troy set the picture down with more care than Tyreen would have and looked around him.

“And why exactly are we doing that?” He looked up at her, Tyreen crossing her arms and jutting her hip out to stare pointedly at him. She didn’t want to be here and he questioned why she even bothered tagging along.

“Because, he took a bullet for me, the least I can do is find this recording he wanted me to listen to. I feel like I owe him that much.” Troy shook his head, walking past her and opening up one door, closing it immediately when he saw it was the bathroom then opening the second door that led to the bedroom. “Ya know, you didn’t have to come at all. I could have done this without you, Ty.”

“Please,” he heard her enter the room after him. “You can’t do anything without me around.” Troy huffed, turning away from his sister to look around the room.

Like the rest of the place, it had metal walls, one single hole in the wall with a sheer curtain in front of it, and an old sunken in bed at the back wall. There was one old dresser, the draws mostly were broken but there were some clothes inside and photos on the surface. More pictures of the woman, Walkers wife Troy guessed. She was a plump woman with medium blonde hair that was usually pulled back into a braid. A lot of the photos had pictures of the kid, all of them when he was young it seemed. Sometimes there were skag pups in the photos, sometimes there were guns or technicals, father and son in a garage, surrounded by a variety of vehicles and machinery.

“This must be his old garage,” Troy mused, Tyreen coming up next to him to look at what he was looking at.

“Oh yeah, I think I remember that now. It’s where you found him. You loved his work so much you recruited him on the spot. First scavenger to join the family.” Tyreen said. She squinted her eyes, looking at one particular photo of the son holding up a large machine gun, a huge grin on his face, with grease smeared all over his cheek and coveralls. “I didn’t know old man Walker had a son? Do you remember seeing him at all?”

“No… all the photos seem to be of him as a kid. Probably died.” Troy stated, turning away to see several recordings on the floor on one side of the bed, followed by Old man Walkers echo device. “Which one did he want me to play?” Annoyed, Troy grabbed one of the tapes and looked it over. When he didn’t see anything written on it, he shrugged and jammed it into his echo device.

The room filled with static, and quietly the twins tuned in.

_"Damn it all, Nate, ya ain't s'posed ta use that. Yer ma'll have my nuts on a plate if she sees ya." Walkers chastised his young, sighing in exasperation._

_"Yeah, but what mama don't know won't hurt her, pa." The sweet mischevious voice of a child spoke up and old man Walker had to stop himself from laughing._

_"I don't think so, Nate." There was shuffling, Walker taking whatever was in Nates hands and setting it down on a metal table. "No, power tools until yer older. Shit, kid, yer only 6 years old, ya shouldn't be sneaking around yer maw like that."_

The recording cut out and Troy kind of smiled at it. Nate was a rascal, and unlike Tyreen, he wasn't bothered by going through these recordings. He grabbed a second one, setting the first on the bed as he sat down on it, and put it in his echo device.

_"God damn it all, Nate, what the hell are them skag mutts doin' in here?" Walker shouted, the anger and annoyance in his voice loud and clear._

_"Aw, pa, they ain't hurtin' nobody." A mischevious child's voice again. "Why can't they stay?"_

_"It's more mouths to feed, we got a hard enough time keepin' ourselves fed, we don't got time to be lookin' after two pups who should be with their mama. We eat skag, Nate. We don't keep em as pets."_

_"You ain't gonna eat Pot n' Kettle! I'm their mama now! I'll make sure they're fed, honest!" Nate cried out, the skag pups whimpering in the background._

_The old man Walker sighed. "Yer gonna be the reason why I turn grey early, brat."_

The recording cut out, and Troy laughed this time.

"Looks like this Nate kid got to keep his skag pups." He gestured to the photos on the dresser of young Nate. Tyreen groaned beside him, lying across the bed with an aggravated huff.

"Let's move ooon already!" She growled grabbing the next tape and shoving it into the echo.

_"For the glory of the Calypso's! For the Twin Gods!" Chanting from an old radio filled the room, followed by the repeated chantings of old man Walker, a woman, and Nate._

_"Damn those two, being mighty generous to a family of scavengers like us," Walker said, sighing deeply. _

_"I think they just liked your out runners, paw," Nate said, voice a thick drawl that was hard to distinguish._

_"Our, out runners. Don't be forgettin' that now, since you be going on up to Promethea, working with them fancy Atlas types." Walker scoffed and Nate huffed._

_"Paw, I ain't goin' to work for Atlas. I told you and ma that already." Another scoff from the old man. "I'm going up there to open up my own workshop."_

_"I don't see why you can't just open up one right here on Pandora." Walker stated._

_"Because I don't want to be gettin' in the way of them Calypsos. They got all the mechanics they need here. They ain't loosin' out if one of em happens to head off-world." Nate said, his voice surprisingly high pitch fo a man._

_"They offered me a Chief position at the Holy Broadcast Center... got me and your maw set up with a nice little hovel. Room for you too if ya want. You don't got to leave, kid." Walker said._

_"I know, paw, but I want to get off this planet. Not like we ain't ever gonna talk or see each other again. And you get to work specially for the twin gods."_

_Walker sighed, and the sound cut out._

"So, he did grow up." Troy mused, grabbing the last of the tapes and putting it in his echo. "So what exactly are you saying, Walker?"

_"They got me joinin' in on one of them raids today. Gainst them Skull smashers." Walkers' voice sounded so old a weary now. "Somethings goin' on with Father Troy's technical, can't get 'er fixed for the raid in time... so they want me to go with them in case something goes wrong." There was a long moment of silence, the lack of responses indicating the old man was alone. "Listen, I probably ain't gonna make it out of there alive. I ain't as young as I used to be and I ain't ever been that good of a shot. I know the Twin Gods ain't got no reason to be listenin' to an old fool like me, but I got a spawn. Nate Scars. My pride and joy and that son o' bitch is a damn fine mechanic. Probably could fix this here technical sleepin'. Taught Nate everything I know. Me and the Missus both did. Nate done holed 'emselves up in the bogs of Eden-6 after leavin' Promethea. Set up a nice little workshop there I hear. I haven't talked to Nate in a long while. Not since leaving Promethea at least. Would you do an old man a kindness and tell Nate I'm gone? I served loyally these past years and I ain't ask for much. Just a roof over my head and a place to set up shop. Didn't ask to be put in charge, but I served loyally. I praised the twins' name like every other member of the family. Just don't think its right for my spawn to not know their last kin is dead."_

Once the recording stopped, Troy huffed and tossed the echo device onto the floor, letting it clatter against the metal wall. "So, old man Walker wants me to tell his son he died?" He rubbed his face with his human hand, trying to hold back some of his annoyance. He should have known better. Walker was an old, shriveled up guy who only had one good eye and his hands shook so badly he had to stop his hands-on work a few months ago. Troy's never even seen him hold a gun before until he dragged him into that raid. He was just so angry at the time that his technical wasn't working the way it used to he held the old man responsible. 

Troy never really thought of himself as the type to have a moral compass or have any kind of moral obligations. He killed people and enjoyed it. He watched people die and enjoyed it. People died in his name, he reveled in it. People threw their lives away for him all the time, and yet here he was practically riddled with guilt because one of his mechanics, an old guy who should have died a long time ago, took a bullet for him. An old guy thats been with the Children of the Vault since the beginning. Walker was one of the first to praise the name of the Calypso twins. Maybe Troy did feel some type of moral obligation, just this once, for an older follower. He did always get along with the old man at least. "I guess it can't hurt..."

"You aren't seriously thinking of looking for this Nate kid are you?" Tyreen sat up, staring at troy with an almost judgemental gleam in her icy eyes.

"Can't hurt, Walker was one of us. Sounds like Nate is too, even if he is off world." Troy pursed his lips and shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe he can replace Walker. Were one good mechanic down anyway..."

"Ulch," Tyreen made a sound of disgust, getting off the bed and dusting her pants off as if they had been dirted. "Whatever, you go look for this Nate kid all you want, I'm going back to the Holy Broadcast Center. I have better things to do than seek out some off-world follower." She humphed and sauntered out of the room, and from his place on the bed, Troy could hear the front door closing.

* * *

**ScArS cARs**

Troy glared at the mismatched neon letters dangling over the entrance to an old beat-up garage. He was in the bogs of the Floodmoor Basin on Eden-6. The air was thick and humid, the fur of his coat clung to his neck and his boots were practically soaked from the swamp. Scars garage was built into the roots of a great old tree, an old shabby wooden building and if it weren't for the noise coming from within the garage, Troy would have thought it was abandoned. It looked like it was falling apart, hanging on its last branches so to speak. Troy scratched his head, then made a sound of disgust when he pulled his sweaty fingers away.

"Ugh, let's just get this over with." He muttered, trudging into the noisy garage. Over the stereo he could hear Mouthpiece with the daily CoV news, sharing that the Calypsos had yet another successful raid against the Skullsmashers and that the bandit leader had been sacrificed in the glory of the twins. Inside the garage was virtually empty, save for a few tools that lined the back walls, tires stacked in a corner, and CoV symbols hanging from the ceiling. The center of the garage was oil-stained pavement, various tools littering the floor. To the right of the garage entrance is a small room where Troy could make out the very edge of an unkempt bed, clothes strewn all over the floor. To the left was a closed-off space, a wooden wall separating the garage into a different space. This was where all the noise was coming from. The sound of power tools drowned out Mouthpieces announcements and Troy carefully walked over that way to get a good peek at the noise.

A large yellow CoV technical took up the mass majority of the space, sitting right on top of a vehicle digistructor. The technical was so large Troy couldn't see anything else around the room. It also didn't help that there was a pair of beautifully sculpted legs dangling over the edge of the grill. He stopped midstep to stare. It was a woman dangling over the edge of the technical, one foot tiptoeing on the pavement the other one lifted, knee pressed against the very edge of the grill as the small framed girl dipped under the hood. She wore oil-stained cut off jean shorts that rode up her hips, showing off where soft curved flesh met taut thighs. The seam of her shorts cut right between both cheeks, straight down the middle and in her current hunched over position, he could make out the soft plump lips of her sex. 

"Holy shit..." Troy breathed out, his mouth going dry despite the humidity in the air. 

"Huh?" He hadn't noticed but during his admiration of the girls' ass, the power tool had turned off and dead silence filled the air. Not even the radio was on now, a break in Mouthpieces announcements. The foot that was braced against the technical hit the pavement, and slowly the girl slid out from beneath the hood, her torn shirt riding up on her belly, giving Troy a tantalizing view of her CoV scar carved into the groove of her hip. She turned around fully to face him, wiping her hands on a red shop cloth and his gaze traveled upwards lingering on the way her shirt stretched over her bust, torn at the collar and revealing a low dipping cleavage. Her shirt and skin had grease marks on it, but he found it strangely sexy on the woman's body. 

When his eyes finally met hers he was floored. Shimmering, deep green eyes settled onto his, set above dark circles, below trimmed blonde brows, Grecian nose atop pert plump lips that were curled up in a smirk.

"Gettin' comfortable there?" She asked, tilting her nose up at him, causing him to look down at the tightening in his pants. 

"What can I say? It likes what it sees," He shrugged off his growing erection, and watched as her chest bounced with her laughter. 

"Smooth," she said, her shimmering eyes gleaming with sultry mischief. She turned away from him, setting down her rag on a workbench and pulling out a large wrench. She went back to the technical and dipped right back beneath the hood, renewing him again with a view of her round ass. "What can I do for ya?" Her sweet voice broke him of the obvious trance he was under, and he walked around the technical to hear her better. 

"I'm, uh, looking for a Nate Scars?" Troy said, leaning against the vehicle, receiving a muffled "mmh" from the girl.

"Haven't heard that name in years," she mused, pulling something out from inside the engine; a skull fragment. "Damn bastards, keep tellin' em, not to grill shit on the engine it ain't a fireplace." She huffed stepping back out from the hood. She seemed content on ignoring Troys presence as she went ahead and took her way to large wrench and used it to tighten something within. He took that chance to look around the room, now that he was actually in it. 

She obviously used this space more often to take care of orders, since there was the vehicle digistructor in the center of the room. Old oiled up power tools littered a metal work table, a large overused machine gun set atop it with bullet shells lying around it. There were two work tables, one set off on the far end of the table that was kept neat and tidy, without any tools laying on its surface but instead hanging up on the wall behind it. Stuffed in the corner was an old metal barrel with a tv on top of it with a large gaping hole in the center of it, glass strewn around all over the floor and dust kicked up around it. 

"Don't like the tv?" He joked, looking back at her to see her snort in amusement. 

"No, I don't. Too much of a distraction. It took me breaking the damn thing for my apprentice to pull his head outta his ass." She pulled back roughly on the wrench, grunting at the motion, then sighing contently as she pulled the wrench out and swiped her hand over her brow, smearing oil across the red CoV branded bandana wrapped around her hairline. "Since you're just standin' there looking cute, rev that engine up for me." She instructed, stepping back from her work.

"You think I'm cute?" He teased, winking at her but she rolled her eyes in a way that seemed way to sexy. He chuckled at the response and slid into the driver seat. The key was in the ignition and he carefully turned it, the engine sputtering to life. The girl cursed and instructed him to turn it off. He stayed seated, draping one arm over the steering wheel as she bent over the grill again. Between the gap of the upraised hood and the technical, he got a front-row seat to her dangling tits, squeezed together like two pieces of juicy fruit. "Shit..." He cursed again, fighting against the strain in his pants as he tried to refocus his brain towards his task. "So uh, Nate Scars?" He asked.

"What do you want 'em for?" She asked, pulling at something else deep in the engine. This time it was a stretched out saurian hide, riddled with tears and brunt marks. She cursed again, tossing the hide onto the ground and standing back, giving Troy a much-needed break from her cleavage. 

"I uh, got a message for him, from his dad." He said, starting up the engine again when she flicked her wrist at him. This time it purred to life, gentle and smooth like it should have the first time. She sighed in relief, closing the hood with a loud slam. Troy didn't miss her tits jiggling. "Damn, I've never met a mechanic like you before." He admitted watching her walk past him towards a sink where she started washing her hands vigorously, splashing water onto her face. 

"A woman?" She sounded almost snarky, turning the sink off and drying her hands with a stained rag. 

"Well, no, I don't mean that..." He followed her, heading over towards the sink where she dodged him and slipped into the very back of the garage where the radio sat up high on a shelf, plugged into a large speaker. "I just mean that you're unexpectedly..." Hot? Sexy? Thousands of words flooded his mind as he tried to find something that best described her, distracted when she pulled the ends of her white stained tee up over her flat belly, showing him her CoV scar again and the curves of her underboobs. Her shirt pulled up higher as she swiped her forehead and Troy _swore_ he could see that tempting pink of a nipple. "Fuck, you're doing that on purpose aren't you?" He glared at her, catching a hint of a mischevious smile on her lips before it was replaced with something normal, clueless almost.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," she stated, pulling her shirt down to cover up her breasts, belly, and mark. Never in a million years did Troy ever think a CoV mark could be so sexy. Usually, the Children of the Vault put their marks in obvious places. Hands, arms, shoulders, entire chests, a lot of the times it was on the forehead, sometimes the whole face. Women tended to put them between their tits or on their tits, but it always seemed to mess with the shape of their breasts. This woman's mark was just slightly above the waistline of her shorts, peeking out over the jeans and every time her shirt rode up above her hip. "So, Nate Scars?" She asked him, tilting one blonde brow up before she slipped past him. He grabbed her wrist and drew her back, slamming her into one of the wooden walls and stepping close to her. She stared up at him, sweat beading on her brow, drenching her bandana and hair, grease peppering her cheeks. She gave him a questioning look, clearly fighting to keep away that sultry mischevious smile he saw on her lips earlier. "Can I help you?" She asked.

"You don't want to tease me, girl." He threatened but it didn't seem to mean all that much to her when he felt her thigh swipe up between his legs, rubbing against the straining erection in his jeans. She winked at him, and he growled lowly at her. 

* * *

So, that's how he wound up in the position he was in now.

Not that he was complaining. This girl was a pro with her mouth, he was finding it difficult to keep his mind focused and she seemed to notice. She pulled his cock from her mouth with a pop and squeezed him just a bit too hard causing him to hiss out and pull at her hair.

"Watch it," He growled at her, seeing her nose scrunch up in annoyance.

"You're the one that zoned out..." she muttered licking her lips slowly. She seemed almost insulted at him for it and he smiled a tad pulling her head back with his hand in her hair. He poked her lips with the head of his cock and she took the hint, opening her mouth wide for him to plunge inside.

She swallowed him whole, her eyes squeezing shut as he pulled at her hair, forcing his dick to press against the back of her throat. She groaned around his cock, making it vibrate in her mouth. She held onto his thighs, accepting each erratic thrust into her throat willingly. "I don't-" he grunted as he pulsed within her hot mouth, his balls tapping her chin with each rough thrust. "Usually... zone out..." between each breath he took he trusted, face fucking her at this point. "You're just too good with your mouth," he stated, pleased with the look of pure bliss on her face. "Fuck... you like this, don't you?"

She mmhed around his cock, causing him to groan and lean his head back again. She sucked on him, pulling him back into the moment. She was glaring at him again, clearly not amused by his ability to zone out during her blow job. He straightened up again, bracing his hand against the wall behind her and started thrusting into her mouth with more vigor, feeling himself tipping over the edge, his balls pulling up, tightening up, his cock throbbing for release. She was squirming in front of him, her thighs squeezing together tightly, most likely pressing against her own arousal as she focused on his. 

"Shit... I'm close..." he huffed, leaning his head back while her hands reached around him, squeezing the back of his thighs. With a few more thrusts and flicks of her tongue, he was filling her mouth with his seed, pumping into her more slowly as his cum seeped past her lips and dripped down to her cleavage, painting her breasts in the white sticky substance. He slowly pulled out from her mouth as he began to soften, but it didn't stop her from cleaning him, sucking each drop of cum he had to offer and swallowing. When she was finally satisfied with cleaning him she leaned back, squeezing her tits together and raising them, leaning down and licking them clean as best as she could. "Damn," the sight of it was sexy as hell and when she looked up at him again her tongue was sticking out, white cum dripping down slowly before she swallowed it up. She stood up carefully, her knees aching from kneeling on the floor for so long. He helped her, holding one arm up as he lifted her up, then pressing her back against the wall. She seemed to accept it willingly, parting her thighs when he slipped between them, his soft cock pressing against the seam of her shorts. 

"I don't think you'll be gettin' much use out of that now," she said calmly a hint of amusement in her tone. 

"Not gonna stop me from returning the favor," he drawled out slowly, holding her up with his mechanical arm and unbuttoning her shorts with his human arm. She squirmed a little when his fingers touched her bare skin, tracing the mark by her hip. "Child of the Vault I take it?" He asked her, watching her sigh softly as his warm hand skimmed her flesh.

"Nat?" A lone voice called out in the distance, as well as claws scraping against the pavement. 

"Shit," the girl quickly unwrapped her legs from around Troys waist and pushed away from him, shoving him back far enough that she could quickly get away, buttoning her pants up and wiping her face and chest. Two skags, large and fat came barreling towards her jumping on her and tackling her down onto the ground. "Down!" She shouted, scrambling out from underneath the skags. It was easy to do, only because now the skags had found Troy and were growling at him. He cursed, shoving himself into his pants while the girl grabbed the two mutts by their collars and dragged them back. "Snitch, Stitch, you leave that poor man alone!" She insisted, pushing them away from Troy with her foot. "Go on, get." She hissed at them and they scampered away, just as a small boy with shaggy brown hair and a baggy jumper walked around the corner. 

"There you are," the boy said, his voice soft and smooth and sweet. "What are you doing back here?" He asked, looking between her and Troy with a brow raised. 

"Nothin'," she spoke hastily, straightening herself up from the skag attack. "He had a message from pa, took him back here so we could talk quiet like." Her cheeks were red, and the boy in front of her didn't seem to believe her at first till he eventually shrugged and walked away, setting a box of goods he had in his hands down on the empty work table. She huffed in relief and looked at Troy.

"Wait, _you're _Nate Scars?" Troy couldn't help the accusation in his tone, following her as she walked away from the corner and back to her technical.

"Name's Natalie Scars. Nat for short. Only Pa called me Nate." She said hastily, quickly trying to busy herself as she grabbed the machine gun from her work table and proceeded to attach it to the technical. "So what's this message from Pa you had? Did the old fart finally croak?" She questioned, not seeming to realize the reality of her words. "What he do, drink himself into a barrel of rakkale again? Chop a finger off working? Did a skag bite off his arm?" She started listing off all of these things that could have potentially gone wrong with her father, trying to make light of whatever message she was about to receive.

"He's dead," Troy said, watching her move from her technical to her work table.

She paused for a moment, eyes lingering on her tools. "Oh," she said, picking up a few things and taking them back to her technical. "How'd he die? Alcohol poisoning? Was he sacrificed to the Twin Gods? Did a psycho eat him?" Again with listing off everything that could have gone wrong with him.

"He was shot in the chest," Troy said. Nat didn't react, just like before she continued working, this time without pause.

"Dumb ass, shouldn't have been out there shootin'. He's never been good at gun handlin'. That was Ma's thing. Pa could only handle a wrench. Ma had the trigger finger." She smiled, just a bit, it was bittersweet and was the only sign she felt something for the death of her father. "When did he die?" She finally stopped screwing the gun to the vehicle, settling her eyes on Troy. 

"During the raid on the Skullsmasher bandit camp, he took a bullet for me," Troy said.

She shook her head at him, anger on her face. "What the hell do you think yer doin', huh? Lettin' an old man like that take a bullet for ya. Yer young, you could handle gettin' shot." She was waving her wrench at him, angry, stalking towards him exactly like a predator would its prey. "He was a sweet old man that worked on cars, he shouldn't be takin' bullets for anyone, especially a Troy Calypso look alike."

"Lookalike? What the hell are you talking about?" He stopped backing up and stalked towards her, the wrench in her hand pressing against his chest as she glared up at him. "I'm the real Troy Calypso."

"Bullshit," she snapped, tossing her wrench onto her work table and stepping around him. "You ain't no Troy Calypso. I've seen guys like you struttin' in here, tryin' to pull off the male siren vibe. It ain't new around here that I'm a cultist and jackasses like you show up in here expecting some sort of special treatment cause you look like one of my gods. I ain't fallin' for that shit. Now get out." She threatened, making her way back into the corner of the room where just a minute ago she had blown him off. "Why in the Twins name would Troy Fucking Calypso come to my shop to tell me my daddy is dead?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes at the sheer audacity of his presence. As he looked closer at her angry eyes, he could see the budding of tears in the corners. He sighed heavily and walked up to her, staring down at her with sympathy in his eyes even as she glared at him.

"Look, I came here because I thought you might be a good replacement for him. With the Chief gone, we need a new one. Walker seemed pretty adamant that you would be a good fit to handle his work." Troy said, ignoring the fact she thought he was a fake for the moment.

"Now, why would I go and do that?" She asked, sniffling and rubbing at her eyes.

"So that his work doesn't get past down to someone who doesn't deserve it. Who isn't worth taking over for him. You don't want someone to ruin his work, do you?" He asked, watching her little huff cause the rise and fall of her chest. He could still picture his cum on it. 

"I ain't going anywhere till this job here is done. And I ain't going without my skags Snitch and Stitch, and I ain't goin' anywhere without Cutiepie over there." She gestured to the teenager currently working on a dismantled bot, clearly lost in his work and unaware of the drama that had unfolded next to him.

"How long will this job take you?" Troy asked. Nat shifted on her feet, looking away from him and over at her technical and he watched as the wheels turned in her mind. 

"I'm just about done. I have to run some tests out in the field first, get a feel for how the gun mechanics are workin'... It should take me about two days. One if I pull another all-nighter on it." She would have had it finished by tonight if she hadn't gotten... distracted with this Calypso copy. She eyed him up and down with a scrutinizing glare. She'll admit, she never even saw Troy Calypso before. Both here and on Promethea there were no words of the Children of the Vault. It was something that was mostly over the echonet, something she wasn't apart of since she didn't have an echo device. Most she could do to follow up with the Twins and Pandora was on the radio, and she had to fix the radio tower in the area just so it could pick up Mouthpieces station. Still, word had reached her ears about the way the twins looked. She knew Troy had dark spiky hair, that Tyreen had white-blonde hair. Troy had angry red siren tattoos and Tyreen had the traditional "flow like water" blue tattoos. Troy was tall, thin but muscled with the Calypsos tattooed on his skin. He had one gloriously long metal arm that reached well past his knees. This "Troy Calypso" in front of her was probably a great double. But she didn't believe for a second he was the real deal, sticking to her earlier statement. 

_"Why would Troy Fucking Calypso come to my shop to tell me my daddy is dead?" _


	2. Say My Name

_Fuck. _

It was the only word that echoed through Nats' mind. That and _He's the real Troy Calypso._

Her blood froze in her veins when she walked into that ship, as she watched him move back and forth, ordering people around like it was second nature. People called him Father Troy for fuck's sake. 

_FUCK._

Right now she was in a single person bedroom aboard the Calypsos spacecraft, sitting on a round double bed with a dazed look in her eyes. Her apprentice Cutiepie was somewhere else on this ship, along with her two skags. Troy specifically brought her to this bedroom and told her not to leave the room, and honestly? She was too afraid to move. 

_Troy Fucking Calypso came to my shop to tell me pa was dead. _She swallowed hard at the thought. _And I yelled at him for letting it happen. _Her head fell into her hands, fingers sliding into her greasy hair and tugging on a few strands. It briefly reminded her that his hand had been in her hair only yesterday, yanking it to pull her closer to him. 

"Fuck!" She cursed loudly, purposefully yanking on her hair as if she was trying to pull her memories from her head. 

"Eh, so you figured it out?" His amused voice drew her out of her moment of shame just long enough to look up. He stood in the doorway, letting it close behind him before locking it with the pin pad beside it. "Damn, I was hoping I could enjoy it some more." There was only slight disappointment present in his voice, even as his eyes held mischevious humor behind them. He pulled his coat off, carefully maneuvering the cut off sleeve from his robotic arm, then tossing the coat onto the ground with a thud.

"Y-you're..." She swallowed again, unable to tear her eyes away from him. "You're really him?" Her voice sounded so small in her ears. She flinched at his laughter and turned away from him when he plopped onto his bed beside her and lied back. "I-If I had known who you were back at the shop I never would have..." she huffed, stopping herself from continuing. The weight on the bed shifted as Troy sat up, and he reached under her chin and yanked her face towards him. The force of it had her almost toppling onto him, her hands gripping onto his thighs to keep herself from falling over.

"You never would have dropped on your knees and worshipped me?" He teased, watching her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. It was all the confirmation he needed and it brought a grin to his lips. Her hands balled into fists against his thighs, his hand on her chin not letting up enough for her to sit upright. Her eyes were level with his mouth, and she watched it curl up in satisfaction at her clear discomfort. 

"I certainly wouldn't have done it like _that,_" she muttered, placing one hand on his bare stomach, the other on his chest as she lightly pushed back against him, gaining leverage as she slipped slowly from his grip. "And I wouldn't have yelled so much about him takin' a bullet for you either. Of course, he would have." She took her hands away from the heat of his body but Troy caught her left hand with his mechanical fingers, pulling her towards him, much like he did in her shop. She stumbled into him again, catching herself this time by keeping one hand pressed against the bed. She avoided looking at him in the eyes this time. She was too afraid to meet them now, terrified of what it meant to look a God in the face after yelling at him, after... _servicing _him in such a sinful manner. 

"Look at me," there was an icy chill to his words, his mechanical fingers gripping her wrist tightly enough the metal digits dug into her skin. Cautiously she obeyed him, eyes fluttering just a bit as she gazed up at him. His dark brows were furrowed together at the center, his eyes narrowing down at her ever so slightly that she could see some kind of annoyance behind them. His jaw was set, lips pursed with that same annoyance his eyes held. "You're afraid of me now." He stated it like a fact, his lips drawing back into a thin line.

"Shouldn't I be?" She asked softly, her eyes flickering from his lips to his icy gaze, shivering subconsciously at the white-blue irises. Her wrist was beginning to ache, her hand slowly started to go numb from the pressure of his grip but she dare not pull it away. She didn't care if he held her in that vice-like grip for the rest of her life and she lost her hand. She was NOT going to fight back against him after calling him out. 

"So, if you knew who I was when I walked in that danky shit hole of yours, you wouldn't have worshiped me the way you did?" He asked, his grip on her tightening. 

"No," she said quickly, forcing herself to not tug her hand back even though his grip was starting to hurt her now. "I wouldn't have."

"So you would have done it to anyone who walked in then? Or is reserved for lookalikes?" His human hand came up her backside, causing her to gasp and scoot forward instinctually. She only relaxed when she felt the gentle warm caress of his fingers brushing up her spine. 

"No, I wouldn't have done it for just anyone. No, it ain't reserved for lookalikes." She shuddered, that soft brushing of skin against skin working against her instincts to shy away from him. There was something about the heat of him that made her want to curl up into him and mewl like a cat in heat.

"Then why did you do it?" He asked, waging her reaction as his hand dipped into her low ridding shorts, groping soft plump ass cheek with a rough squeeze. She whimpered, fighting her desire to simultaneously back into his hand and push into his chest. When she didn't answer him right away he made the choice for her, yanking her into him with her left hand and releasing it abruptly. This time when she toppled over him she couldn't catch herself in time and her face landed in his lap. Her nose rubbed up against something hard and when she opened her eyes she caught the lining of his cock pressed tightly against the leg of his pants, begging to be free just like it did in her shop. She could feel the heat of him through his pants and the smell of his heated skin reminded her how good he had tasted. Her mouth watered at the memory and before she could tell herself to stop she was rubbing the bridge of her nose against him, sniffing and pushing against him, eliciting a grunt of approval from the god above her. Her eyes flickered up to him watching his icy blue stare glaze over in pleasure. His grip on her ass let up enough to be considered a gentle squeeze and she breathed out in relief, nuzzling her nose into his crotch as if it was her safety line. She couldn't stop herself. She became a woman possessed as she took her time memorizing the shape of his cock. From the tip of his head, down to the girth of his hilt, she ran her nose along the entirety of his length. 

She could feel her own heat spreading between her thighs, her mind screaming at Troy to move his hand closer to her center, to feel him dip those long calloused fingers into her. Subconsciously she moaned, picturing the sweet bliss she would get from feeling something inside her, spreading her juices around, fucking her until she couldn't think anymore. Troy shifted slowly above her, his eyes never leaving her as she drooled over his cock, his pants soaking through as she licked his jeans as desperate to suck him again as he was to let her do it. He unbuttoned his pants, her possessed suckling slowing to a stop as she watched his mechanical fingers ease his zipper down. When he did nothing further, she looked up at him, seeing his glossed over eyes, then turned back to that tempting offer of his unzipped pants. 

She didn't hesitate. She tugged his pants down enough that she could easily reach into them and grasp his cock, pulling him free. She marveled at his size, taking the time to admire him now since she hadn't before. She watched the veins in his cock throb, traced her fingers over them as they strained against her touch. His cock was sticky with precum, the inside of his pants were probably soiled and she sniffed him, feeling her insides quiver at the musky stench of his arousal. Her tongue darted out and she took one slow lick at his tip, precum clinging to her, Troy's hand on her ass tightening as he hissed out his pleasure. He was salty, creamy and delicious and she wanted more of it. She started low, working her way up his length with her tongue to taste every sticky sap she could get until only her saliva coated him. She moved up to his tip and rounded her tongue over his entire hood, lips closing around the slit so she could preserve the flavor of him leaking into her mouth. 

"Fuck, stop playing with it already!" Troy's angry voice drew her out of her trance for a moment and she looked up at him. His lips were parted, gasping out each breath like it was his last. His grip on her ass was so tight now his nails were digging into her fleshy backside, the pain only registering in her mind now that she was looking up at him. She was driving him crazy and she could see it in his wild gaze, his mouth drawn into a frown as he struggled to keep himself in check. "Put it in your mouth, fuck." He breathed out, the words sounding forced as the clouds of pleasure still fogged his mind. 

Cautiously, she obeyed him.

With her mouth closed around him, she slowly dipped in low, arching her back and lifting her ass into the air as she took each inch of him in one motion. As soon as Troy could feel her throat closing around his length he groaned loudly, his nails in her backside dragging just as slowly over her skin as she had taken him in. She whimpered around his cock, the sound a muffled plea for more. Troy pulled his hand back up her thigh to her ass and shimmering just slightly to the left where the seam in her pants seemed to dip between her ass cheeks. 

"Fuck," Troy cursed, almost wishing now he had chosen to fuck her pussy instead of her mouth again. She was _drenched._ The soft cotton of her panties were soaked clean through to her jeans with her juices. Her lower lips dripped with arousal, plump and parted, ready to be used and played with and she was quivering against his fingers as they explored the confines of her clothes. Troy watched her, her mouth moving up to the head of his cock, sucking at it hungrily, and gliding back down to his hilt, swallowing around him and causing her throat to squeeze him. She didn't take him out of her mouth to ask him to play with her, she didn't make any motions to stop sucking him despite how clearly aroused she was. He licked his lips, his middle finger sliding against the seam of her lips, tapping at her clit causing her to jolt but she didn't stop sucking him. Finally, he slipped his finger past her slick folds and slowly dipped it into her. She squeaked out a moan, halting in her head bobbing for a second before she continued, moving her lips up towards the tip of his cock, and Troy slowly moved his finger back till only the nail was between her wet sex. When she dipped her head back down, he plunged his finger back in. 

Her inner walls clamored around his finger, trying desperately to keep it inside her as it moved back, in time with her head bobbing. It didn't take long for her to catch on and her pace picked up, the only sign she was wanting to get off as much as he did. The faster she bobbed her head, the faster his finger moved into her. The harder she sucked, the harder he plunged into her. It was a little game he was playing with her, that brought him closer to his end faster and drawing her closer to hers. The strain of her pants made it difficult to fully tease her, but it was enough to drive her crazy that the teasing manner in which she sucked him turned into her demanding him to please her. She started using her hands, gripping his length and rotating her hands around him, her hands following behind her mouth to drag out his pleasure. When she started doing that he rewarded her with a second finger, though he didn't plunge it into her quite yet. Instead, he drew little teasing circles around her throbbing clit, never quite touching it, only bringing out slight contact until she was a moaning mess around his cock, her head bobbing turning sloppy as he distracted her with her own pleasure. 

"Hurry up and make me cum," he said, intentionally making his voice sound icy. She squeezed around his finger and tried to refocus her attention on pleasing him. She obeyed him, his cock now fully covered in her saliva and his precum, his climax drawing into him sharply. He gripped her hair with his mechanic hand, yanking at the golden locks and forcing his cock into her mouth. She pressed her hands into his thighs, holding herself up as she matched the pace he wanted her to go at, tears budding in her eyes as he pulled at her scalp. He moved her head faster, his single digit in her matching his speed, her slick juices covering his hand now, the smell of her salty arousal filling his room. He pulled her up sharply on his dick, her lips coming clean off from him as cum sprung out, shooting out against her lips and face. Cumming didn't stop him. He quickly lifted her head by the hair so she was at eye level with him. "Do you want it?" He asked, rubbing that teasing second finger against her clit. She gasped out, her hand reaching out to grip his metal wrist that still held her hair, her mouth open, panting, her body quivering in his grasp. "Answer me," He growled pulling at her hair, Nat crying out in blissful pain and she nodded her head vigorously. "Say it," he leaned forward, licking the salty sweat on her arched neck before he watched her for a response. 

"P-please..." She whimpered, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. "Please put it in. I'm begging you." Troy smirked, Nat closing her eyes tightly at the sight and moaned out loud when that second finger plunged into her. Her hands around his wrist dropped and Troy pushed her down onto his bed, his mechanical hand bracing against the mattress while he lifted her leg up to spread her pussy for him. She held her leg up for him as he moved his fingers within her, pressing deep into her till he felt that tight little ball within her before he curled his fingers upwards against it. 

"Do you want more?" He asked, leaning over her on the bed, his lips at her ear, gently nibbling at the top of it. She whimpered beneath him, strained against his fingers, her head nodding. "Say my name," he moved away from her ear watching as her eyes opened and she looked up at him. Her beautiful forest colored eyes shimmered with tears, her lips red from sucking on Troy, painted in his cum. Her hands were wrapped around his mechanical arm, holding onto it as he pushed his fingers deeper into him. "Say it," he growled at her. Carefully she unwrapped one hand from his arm and slid her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him gently towards her parted lips.

_"Troy Calypso."_

* * *

Nat's body sagged against the bed, Troys weight shifting off it as he stood. She buried her face into his sheets, quietly reveling in his scent while his footsteps drew to the front of the room. She heard the beeping of buttons as he entered his pin, and the door slid open with a mechanical _clink. _He stepped past the doorway, paused, taking in her slumped over appearance. She had her face hidden in his sheets, her chest pressed into the mattress, her waist turned slightly so she rested on the side of her hip, and her legs hung over his bed, thighs slightly parted revealing the soaking mess left in her shorts. His upper lip curled up with a smirk before he turned away from her, his feet echoing away from his room.

She laid like that for several long, agonizing minutes. Her body was numb, her leg ached from holding it upright for so long, her soaked jeans rubbing her skin raw as her thighs pressed together. She should be ashamed. She offered herself so shamelessly to Troy Calypso, begged him to let her cum, cried out his name in pleasure.

All for a fucking finger.

And it didn't even take that much for her to cum. As soon as he had her face pressed into the bed, she was putty in his hands. 

_No, before that..._ She groaned to herself, remembering how easily she succumbed to her desire the minute his dick was in her face.

"What is wrong with me..." She groaned again, finally rolling over onto her back to stare at the metal ceiling. Her body still hummed with pleasure, her pussy still pulsating from that final orgasm, still not quite satisfied. If they hadn't have been interrupted by the ship's navigator, Troy would have done more to torment her. She was wondering if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and decided to shelf it as an "I-don't-want-to-think-about-it" thing and sat up. She wanted to go find Cutiepie and her skags, and spend the rest of the trip with them, hopefully hiding out and not laying in Troys room-turned-sex-den, but one look at her soiled pants told her she wasn't going anywhere. Unless she wanted to show the entire crew how fucked up she got by Troy. "Especially don't want Cutiepie seein' me like this..." Her heart kind of sank and she tried to will away that weight by standing, staggering a little before standing straight. 

She walked around the room, noting that it was far too empty and unused to show any real insight to the god it roomed. Instead, she walked to the only other door in the room and opened it, stepping into a white-walled bathroom, complete with a tub/shower with running water, a fully functional toilet, and sink, and a mirror stretched across one wall behind the sink. She took one look at herself and immediately gagged at her reflection. 

She usually kept her dark blonde hair in a messy bun atop her head, but because Troy had manhandled her hair, it was loose and fell into stray locks around her neck and face, her red bandana doing nothing to keep the stray strands contained. Her lips were swollen, a luscious shade of pink that was worn from use. Her white shirt was covered in sweat, the material see-through because of the quantity. She still had residual cum on her cheeks and in an attempt to resist the urge to lick it off she turned the sink on and washed her face, splashing it with clean cold water, trying not to sink to her knees. She grew up not having running water on Pandora. The concept just didn't exist, and she was fine with that. They all had to make do with what they could, showering was a commodity, as most water was used for drinking. When she moved to Promethea, the huge metropolitan city was practically flooding with it. It was her first experience with clean running water. When she moved to Eden-6 however... Despite that it was a swampy planet and was home to the Jakobs the water there was never really... _clean. _There was running water, which was nice to have but usually, water came out smelling like swamp, or tasting like dirt. On some occasions, it was even _slimy. _This cold, clean water coming out of this spaceship was a godsend to her. She quickly pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it onto the floor, disregarding every signal in her brain telling her _NOT _to get into that shower, as she turned the spout on, put it on scalding hot, and quickly kicked off her shoes and peeled off her shorts and panties. 

"I don't give a damn if he kills me for this, I am gettin' in this tub." She said to herself, stepping over the tub and yelping as the too hot water turned her skin red. She pulled her bandana off, tossing it on the floor with the rest of her clothes and tugged her hair tie from her hair, letting the tangled waves fall down her back. She sighed heavily, all the knotted tension in her body seemed to fade away as hot pellets of water flowed down her body. She looked up into the showerhead, closing her eyes and letting the water soak into her hair, her fingers kneading her scalp, soothing away the ache left behind by Troy, brushing her fingers through it to get out the tangles. 

Once she had gotten each knot out she looked around her, finding a bottle of soap on the side of the tub. She squealed with joy at the sight of it and snagged it up.

"Shower _and _soap?" She happily popped the cap off and squirted a healthy amount onto her palm. Spicy musk filled her nose, reminding her of the way men smelled on Promethea, but shrugged her shoulders and lathered that soap into her hair deeply scrubbing it into her scalp and down her locks. Once her hair was completely covered in the cologne musked soap she lathered her body in it, scrubbing all the important bits, trying to not think of Troy's hands on her when she rinsed off. She stayed standing in that shower for several long minutes after she was soaped up, enjoying the fact that the only smell in the room was from the soap, that the water was actually hot, that it wasn't slimy. She waited till it ran cold and then finally clamored out of the tub, squeezing water out of her hair. She grabbed the nearest towel, trying not to have another squealing moment over a fucking towel, and patted her body dry. She left her clothes on the floor for now and stepped out into the room, in the process of drying her hair when Troy walked in.

The two of them froze, Troy halfway standing in his doorway, making it so that it wouldn't close, and Nat surrounded by the white glare of the bathroom light, fully nude and dripping onto his floor. He was looking her up and down, his expression unreadable but Nat thought she saw a glimmer of approval in his eyes before he stepped into the room completely.

"Making yourself at home?" He asked her, setting something down on the nightstand and sitting down on the edge of the bed where he could stare at her openly. 

"Y-you..." She swallowed, looking back at the mess she made in his bathroom and back at him. "I haven't had a clean shower in a while." She admitted, taking the towel and wrapping it around her body. "I couldn't help myself." Her cheeks flushed the tiniest shade of pink and Troy had to keep himself from grinning at her. 

"You seem to do that a lot," he said. She didn't make a move towards him, choosing to stand in the glare of the bathroom light until he patted the spot on his bed next to him. "Help yourself, I mean." She stayed quiet, carefully walking over to his bed and sitting down on the edge. 

"Gotten me into a lot of trouble in the past..." She muttered, mostly to herself but Troy caught it and laughed, slapping his leg. She glared at him but caught herself when he looked back up at her, humor in his eyes. His eyes squinted up just the slightest at the corners when he smiled, and Nat couldn't help but smile back at him. It was... _cute. _

"You used my soap," he said calmly, taking a strand of her hair and smelling it thoughtfully.

"Y-yeah..." She stammered, looking at him as he fiddled with the blonde strand before letting it fall back against her arm. 

"Do you like the way I smell?" He asked, one brow perked up, upper lip curling back into a smirk that had Nat's stomach doing flip flops. 

_Yes. _A part of her brain screamed at her, a brief flash of his musk wafting into her nose before she shoved that down and tried to focus. "I guess so," she took her own hair and smelled it, enjoying the slight spice and earthy undertones. Her eyes caught sight of Troy watching her, the icy blue depths filled with curiosity and sincerity, causing her to flush at the intensity. "Uhm... so why did you bring me here?" She asked, quickly drawing her eyes away from his, hoping to break the trance-like pull she was feeling towards him. 

"What kind of question is that?" He asked, grabbing a can from his nightstand and drinking from it, offering her it. "I already told you back at your little workshop."

"I mean here," she took the can, taking a grateful sip of some shitty rakkale before handing it back to him. "In this room. Where's Cutiepie and the skags?" She glanced up at him. He turned away from her so he could drink the rest of the contents of the can before setting it down. 

"They're with the crew, probably." He said nonchalantly, leaning back against his bed. She waited for a moment, waiting for him to say more. He was stretched out in front of her like a piece of godly mean and she desperately wanted a bite. "As for why I brought you in here, well..." he trailed off, that cocky self-satisfied smirk of his pulling his lips back. "Let's just say I couldn't help myself." He said, taking her hand and pulling her onto his lap. She thoughtfully moved her leg over his, opening her thighs up just enough he caught a glimpse of slick, glistening folds before they were pressed to the front of his pants, hiding them from his view as the towel overlapped her. Frowning at that he slipped his hand underneath the towel, feeling how hot her skin had become from her little shower, and curling his fingers around her hip, his thumb resting against her CoV scar. 

"So, you only brought me up here for sex?" She asked, keeping her voice neutral as his nails dug into her hip. She wasn't sure if she was bothered by that or not. Part of her knew that she should be, that it was wrong to only be wanted because of something so... carnal. Another part of her was almost honored. The God King wanted to bed her. She wanted to take pride in that this man, who could have literally any woman he wanted, chose her. A darker side of her prompted her that he was probably only doing this because he was bored, and she was nearby, and he had other playthings back on Pandora. And then there was the most dominant part of her. The one that had its own carnal desires. The one that seemed to enjoy getting face fucked and begging for an orgasm. This part of her didn't care why he wanted her, just was happy to have a sexual partner, one that seemed to be so willing to give her what she wanted. 

"Does it matter why I brought you up here?" He asked, sliding his hand up her side, parting her towel so he could see her belly better. She shuddered under his touch, his fingers cold against her heated flesh. 

"I want to say it does, but..." She trailed off, Troy sitting up to nip at her neck, leaving little marks on her skin. She sighed softly, sinking into his touch as one arm wrapped around her body, pulling her towards his chest. He cradled the back of her head with his human hand, his arm wrapped across her back. He tilted her head to the side grinning at how easily she accepted what he wanted. He pressed his lips to her throat, planning on biting down so he could put his own mark on her when she spoke. "I'm not doing this because you're the God King."

"What?" He sat back keeping her head cradled but now his mind was more focused on trying to decipher her words rather than mark her skin.

"I'm not doing this because you're the God King," she repeated lifting her head back up to look into his eyes. Her hands traveled up his chest to his shoulders, her thin fingers curving over them, her thumb tracing his red siren tattoo on his collar bone. Her eyes were thoughtful, her fingers brushing against his skin deliberately slow, her touch featherlike and gentle and it tickled him.

"Then why are you doing it?" He asked. She was quiet, her eyes on her hands that were fiddling with the leather buckle around his neck, tracing the edge of it, fingering the clasps and studs. She seemed lost in thought, her eyes far away. 

Finally, she looked into his eyes again, and a sultry smile curved her lips up. "Does it matter?" She returned his question and Troy broke out into a grin.

_I think I'm going to like this one._


	3. Welcome to the CoV

Nat didn't know what to expect when she would meet the God Queen - if she were to ever meet her at all.

Actually, what she expected was the God Queen sitting on a throne with some psycho's head on her lap, stroking their head like some maniacal villain from an old tv show. She pictured a lake of eridum around a throne, preventing any lowlife bandit from approaching her. She pictured her surrounded by an army of guards, ready to throw down their lives should anything threaten their God Queen.  What she didn't expect was... this.

Tyreen sat lounging on an old couch, stretched out over it, her boots resting on the arm, a magazine in her hands. There were a total of two guards that Nat could see, one by the door, and the other one standing close beside his queen, muscly chest all exposed, a psycho mask concealing his face. When Troy and Nat stepped into the makeshift apartment styled room, Tyreen folded part of her magazine down to look up at them, grinning when she saw her twin. And frowning when her eyes settled on Nat, who was half hiding behind him. 

"You're back," her tone was dry, calm. She swung her feet from the couch and onto the floor, standing up and tossing her magazine onto the coffee table in front of her. 

"Yeah," Troy rubbed the back of his neck and Nat could see the tension forming between his shoulders, wondering what exactly he had to be nervous about in front of his sister.

"You going to introduce me?" She hopped one step towards him, Troy taking a cautious step to the side, completely blocking Tyreens view of Nat. She stared up at his back, again wondering why he was so nervous and placed a cautious hand against his lower back. He looked over his shoulder at her, meeting her eyes and he slowly relaxed. He reached behind him, wrapping an arm around Nat's shoulders and brought her around towards his side, slightly pushing her forward, causing her to stumble a little. 

"Meet Walker's so-called "son"," Troy air quoted, crossing his arms above his chest and nodding his head towards the mechanic. 

"_You're _Nate?" Tyreen held the same baffled amazement in her voice as Troy did when he discovered her name.

"Yep, it turns out only her dad called her Nate." Troy ruffled Nat's hair with a wide grin on his face. "But this is definitely Nate. Check it out," Troy reached down with his human hand, his mechanical one still on top of her head, and pulled the front of her shorts down, revealing the neat little carving in her flesh, the only mark that could claim her as a member of the CoV. A little circle that took up the space of the grove her hip, with an upside-down vault symbol over top of it. Nat held her hands up as Troy exposed her mark, seeming to already be used to Troy's hands on her which caught Tyreens' attention.

The God Queen took a small step towards Nat, the mechanic looking away from her out of respect, turning her gaze to the side of the room. Tyreen bent over in front of her, eyeing the scar, noting its age simply by how faded the scar had become. She hmmed to herself, tracing the lines of her scar with her cold fingers, watching Nat jump at the contact but settle down quickly. Then her hands moved up her stomach, cupping her breast, this action causing the mechanic to look at the God Queen. 

"Wow, so soft," there was a breath of amazement in her voice and Tyreen pulled Nat's t-shirt up over her chest, watching the natural way her chest sagged. Nat swallowed hard, slightly glancing up at Troy and then gazing back down at Tyreen. "So you were born a girl then. No sex change?" She looked up at the mechanic with one brow raised, Nat nodding in agreement. "In the pictures, Walker had of you, you didn't look like a girl."

Nat snorted at that, then flushed when she saw Tyreen give her a quizzical look. "I was an ugly kid," Nat said dryly, remembering the days when the only thing she had to worry about was when she'd grow into her big head.

The God Queen stepped back with a laugh, tugging Nat's shirt down. "No kidding! I thought we'd have to deal with another ugly fucker in the Council." She walked back to her seat, plopping down on the couch. Nat felt Troy's relaxed breath against her ear and he finally stepped away from her, his body heat leaving her as he walked towards his sister. "So, already sleeping with my brother?" She asked, looking at Nat with a mischevious glint in her eyes, and a dangerous smirk on her lips. 

She looked between the two gods, noting that the tension in Troy was back and that there was this ominous air in the room now. When she finally looked back at Tyreen, Nat was shaking her head. 

"No, hasn't gotten that far. Though I did give him a blow job back at my workshop. Didn't fuckin' know who he was at the time though." Nat said, walking around Troy who was giving her a look of panicked horror. She looked around her, taking note of the measly little kitchenette to her right, and the tv room to the left, the standard CoV symbol displayed on the screen. Tyreen took up the whole couch, and Nat finally decided to stand there next to Troy, facing the God-Queen as she looked over the back of the couch at the mechanic, the wide grin on her face showing she was fighting the urge to laugh.

"What stopped you?" Tyreen finally managed to say, her eyes glittering as she looked at the two of them, standing side by side.

"Well, first it was some asshole navigator," Nat said, flipping her hand in the air. She had a hard time being afraid of the God Queen, especially after seeing her lounging on the couch the way she was. "I'm assumin' he was tellin' Troy we were already over Pandora. The second time was you," she looked away from Tyreen, finding an unusual picture hanging on the wall. "Wonderin' what the hell he was doin' takin' his damn time landing." Tyreen laughed this time, her hands over her stomach as if it hurt too much. While her laughter filled the small enclosed space, Nat walked up to the photo, taking it down from the wall to snort at it.

It was of her. Standing in front of her Ma and Pa, barely managing to hang on to two skag pups. Her first pets. Pot n' Kettle. "Damn, I feel old." She stated, putting the picture back on the wall and facing the Calypsos. "I take it this is supposed to be my place?"

"What? No, I just like hanging up other people's family portraits in my living space," Tyreen snorted from the couch, her shoulders shaking from her laughter. Nat flashed her an amused grin, causing the Siren Queen to fall back on the couch in giggles. 

"Ugh, ignore her," Troy approached Nat, waving his hand off in Tyreens direction dismissively. "When we went to your dad's place to find that recording he left behind, we realized what a shit hole he lived in."

"He lived in some of the first housing built in the CoV hub. All the other Council Members have moved into better housing a long time ago, we never thought he still lived in that shack." Tyreen peered over the back of the couch again, resting her arms over it and then her chin over her arms. "We thought it'd be better to upgrade you into better housing."

"I see," Nat looked around her again, finding little remnants of her father laying about the apartment, walking past the couch to see more pictures of her family. "I'm sure what you consider a shack is what I would consider a castle. No offense. Family lived in an old shipping container for years till Pa built a small place for us to live in." She looked back at the twins, who were watching her, and she stopped. "What about my apprentice?" She asked.

"Uh, well we weren't exactly planning on there being two people coming back so..." Troy rubbed his neck, looking at Tyreen. She shrugged.

"He can stay in the bunkhouse, I guess?" Tyreen didn't care. She was mostly intrigued by this mechanic.

"If it's alright with ya'll, he can just live here with me. It'd be weird finally living on my own..." She grew up in a small shack out in the waste. It was little more than a metal cabin, with one mattress and an old radio. Her Ma and Pa always told Nat to sleep on the mattress, while the two of them usually slept on the furniture, or the floor, always giving her the comfort they thought she deserved. On Promethea, she lived in a bunkhouse with 11 other female mechanics, and the concept of "space" didn't really exist, especially if there was only one bathroom. On Eden-6, she shared a small living space with Cutiepie and her skags. It had enough room for one bed that they shared, and a bed for her skags to sleep on. To not only own and live in a place as spacious as this by herself was more than a little intimidating. She looked up at Tyreen, who shrugged her shoulders in indifference, settling back into the couch comfortably. Troy look conflicted but tried to swipe the look away when his eyes met Nats.

"Sure, I guess. We'll have the priests bring him back here after his baptism. And the skags, after their check-up," the God King said, albeit reluctant. 

As much as Cutiepie hated the idea of joining the CoV, it was necessary for him to do so if it meant sticking by Nat's side. So he agreed to a baptism, which was nothing more than a couple of priests bathing him in a questionable liquid eridium/blood blend and giving him the CoV brand. He had been taken away from Nat the minute he set foot on solid ground, and her skags were carried off, needing to pass certain medical exams to be allowed into the central hub of the CoV camp. 

Nat understood the necessity, but she hoped her skags didn't try and attack anyone. She mostly used them as attack dogs and guard dogs. So that's all they knew. Attack and guard, and since Nat wasn't near them, they had nothing to guard.

Tyreen yawned, loudly, diverting Nat's attention away from her thoughts to the God Queen as she got up from the couch, stretching her arms over her head. 

"Well, I guess we should hurry up and get this over with then, huh?" Tyreen regarded Nat, her earlier amused look faded into something serious, the corner of her lips tilting up just enough to show a cocky smirk, one that looked too similar to the God Kings. "Right, so, as our new Chief Mechanic, there are some rules you have to follow. At the end of every week, we hold meetings at the Hub Center. It's important for you to show up as the lead mechanic. You'll have to report in on progress for any projects that are going on and apply some input on incoming projects. Other members'll be present too, with their own responsibilities. You'll be overseeing the warehouse district, making sure work is getting done and working on anything he and I might give you." She gestured between her and Troy before continuing. "You're required to attend every meeting, and it's required to visit the sermons at the church every Sunday." Tyreen counted off on her fingers as she went through a mental checklist, and shrugged when she felt she had covered anything important. "Your first meeting is tomorrow morning. Don't be late." She winked at the mechanic and walked to the door, the guard opening it up. "Oh, and one more thing, like all members of the CoV Head Council, you're required to pick a successor. Someone who you think is capable of taking over your role once you die." She gave one cold smile over her shoulder before she left, giving Nat and Troy a moment alone.

"So that's the only reason why I'm here? Pa didn't think anyone was good enough?" She asked Troy, walking over to the old photos she remembered taking as a child. 

"Yeah, and it's one of the many things here we honor. We don't work in your profession, so only you would know what's best for it. Something like that." Troy walked up to her, lifting a hand to play with her loose hair, fiddling with the strand. "Makes it easier on us, so we don't have to go lookin' for someone suitable, just to be disappointed."

"Mmh... makes sense to me." Nat sighed softly, feeling Troys warm hand travel from her hair to her shoulder, sliding beneath the collar of her shirt to touch the bare skin underneath. His hand was curious, traveling down the front of her shirt, stopping at the top of her breasts and smiling to himself.

"You didn't even flinch when she pulled your shirt up like that." He mused, taking his hand from her shirt only to lift it over her breasts, much like Tyreen had done. Nat swallowed hard, her heart squeezing in her chest with anticipation. "Or when I showed her your mark," his hot breath was on her ear, sending a shudder down her spine. 

"... To be honest, I half expected you both to strip me down," she muttered, looking down as Troys' hand slid down her stomach to the button of her shorts, swiftly undoing them and tugging them down. She could feel herself twitching, waiting for him to touch her. She had been left frustrated on the ship, her body craving to be filled up by the God King. 

"Why is that?" There was a teasing air to his tone, his hand still lingering at the waistband of her shorts, testing her, watching her squirm in anticipation. 

She whimpered, softly looking back at him, want in her eyes. "Please just stop playing with me already," she huffed at him, turning around fully. She grabbed him by his collar and brought him down, crashing their lips together. That action alone seemed to reignite the fire within them, Troy grabbing her by the hips and slamming her back into the wall, chomping on her lower lip and pulling it. 

Nat scrambled, tightly wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself up to him on her toes, returning his bite with one of her own, nipping his upper lip. Together the two of them held that- both of them biting each other while struggling to pull off their clothes. Nat had the hardest time, pulling his coat off his mechanical arm, while he swiftly tugged down her shorts and panties, his hand reaching behind her to grab soft asscheek. 

She finally let go of his lip, Troy doing the same thing so he could pull her shirt over her head, mussing up her hair. He took a moment to admire her bare form, admiring the sweet curves of her hips, the slight pinch in her waist, the slopes of her breasts, and the hardening peaks of her nipples. He knelt in front of her, capturing one of the pink rosebuds between his teeth and nibbling it gently. She cried out softly, pressing the back of her head against the way, squeezing his shoulder with one hand while the other shifted through his hair, pushing his bangs back to look into his eyes better. She whined softly as his tongue ran over her nipple, his hand squeezing and kneading the other, pressing and pinching and rubbing her nipple, giving it as much attention as he was giving the one in his mouth. 

"Troy..." she huffed out his name, sucking her lower lip between her teeth, her brows furrowing together as he fed her pleasure. Something stirred in him, the straining of his pants growing unbearable at the mere sound of his name on her lips. It was always "Father Troy" this, and "King Troy" that. Anyone he's chosen to mess around with never just called out his name as sweetly as this woman did. No title. No reverence. Just simple, carnal need. 

"Fuck, I can't wait anymore." He had planned on taking this slowly, enjoying her body so that he wouldn't have to worry about missing out on anything when Tyreen would eventually tell him to leave her alone. He couldn't wait. He had to have her. _NOW._

He stood up quickly, causing Nat to look at him in surprise, bewilderment in her eyes until she saw him struggling against the strains of his pants. She helped him, unbuttoning them for him, his breath already labored. She slid the zipper down slowly, carefully reaching into his pants and pulling his thick, throbbing member out. She was going to fall to her knees and relieve him, but he stopped her. "Put your arms around me," he ordered, his dick twitching when he felt her hand leave him. She did as she was told and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, only gasping softly when his mechanical arm slid underneath her and lifting her, holding her steady while his cock tapped against her sopping entrance. "Fuck, how are you so wet already?" He asked her, nuzzling his face into her neck, grinding his hips slowly against her covering his member with her slick juices, her gasped little moans filling his ears. He felt her nails drag across his back when the tip of his member rubbed against her clit and her little glare showed she didn't appreciate being taunted. "Say my name," he said, pushing the tip past her slick folds, her lips parting to let out a sweet-sounding moan. He didn't have to prompt her further as she leaned into him and pressed those parted lips of hers against his, her tongue darting out against his, pulling him into a cautious dance while one of her hands slide into his hair, fisting it. 

"Troy Calypso," she sighed against his lips, her hold on him suddenly tightening when she felt more of him pressing inside her, both of them moaning. 

"Keep saying it," he told her, watching through hazy eyes as she swallowed down whatever cry she had at the tip of her lips. "Don't stop saying my name."

She smiled softly at him and did what he asked, moaning his name into his ear as he sank deeper into her, her gasping quiet moans getting louder the more he was inside. When he was at the hilt inside her, they were both panting, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same hot breath as the other. Troy tried not to focus too much on how good it felt inside her. She was warm, and wet, and squeezed his member with every shift. Her ankles crossed behind his waist, pulling him into her more, the tip of his cock pressing against her womb. It was almost scary how perfectly she squeezed him.

"Troy," her hands moved down his shoulders to touch his cheeks, tilting his chin up so she could kiss him. "Troy, are you going to move? Or are you stuck?" She teased him, chuckling softly when he made a face at her.

"Shut up," he huffed, pulling his hips back and pushing into her slow, getting a good feel for the way her inner walls tightened. "Let me enjoy this damn it, I'm not getting interrupted again." His cheeks flushed and he ignored it, focusing instead on moving his hips back and forth, pressing his forearm against the wall behind her to brace himself as his thrusting grew more intense.

"You must be... really frustrated..." She moaned out, her hips gyrating in tune with his thrust, meeting each movement with one of her own, sending his cock deep into her, her loud moans filling the room that was once filled with Tyreens laughter. 

He didn't answer her with words, choosing to instead let his body do the talking, hoisting her up with his mechanical arm, sliding the hand to her hip, grabbing the other with his human hand and pulling back from the wall. Forcing each thrust to drive upwards into her, her chest bouncing against his, her back arching, her hips still desperate to meet his, her tightening walls threatening to make him cum. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin danced around them with their combined moans, Nat abandoning all reason and letting herself enjoy the moment. She had her head tilted back, calling his name like he wanted, her sweet inner walls squeezing until her body seized as she came. 

The sudden strain of her muscles tightening around him caught him off guard, bursts of cum shooting out inside her, drenching her inside with the sticky fluid. He couldn't stop pumping into her, riding out their orgasms until he was finally soft inside her. He slipped out, feeling some of his cum drip out of her onto the floor. 

"Shit," he muttered, cursing at himself for finishing so easily... from finishing inside someone so carelessly. 

Nat sighed softly, releasing her tight grip from his shoulders and looking down at him. "That will be the only time I'll let that happen," she mused, touching his cheeks and kissing his lips once. "Next time, we use protection." She said softly and he relaxed, smiling against her lips. 

"What makes you think there'll be 'a next' time?" He asked, squeezing her ass. Her expression softened, her fingers playing with his hair, a slick smirk stretching her lips.

"You'll be back for more," she said, a slightly teasing tone in her voice. "And next time you'll be moaning my name." 

* * *

The next morning, Nat rolled over in bed, swinging her arm around Cutiepie and nuzzling into his side. She only knew it was him because he smelled like blood and skag, and because Troy had left her shortly before a group of red-robed priests brought him home. She sighed heavily, taking a moment to enjoy the comforting warmth of another person before slowly sitting up, rubbing her eyes and looking down at her apprentice. He was wearing an old tank top, showing the bright red scar of the CoV brand just over his left pectoral. She smiled a bit at the sight, then frowned when she saw the tattoo just barely beneath it, the scar completely mutilating the tattoo. It was his old gangs' insignia. Two skags butting heads. She reached out with the tips of her fingers, touching the edge of the scar, recalling not too fondly her time with the gange when a hand came out and grabbed her wrists, stopping her from touching him. 

"Good morning, Cutie." She smiled warmly at him, ignoring old memories of her time on Promethea, her eyes settling on the soft, tired glare of her apprentice. 

"You're too chipper," he pointed out, letting her hand go and turning on his side to face away from her. "I'm goin' back to sleep."

"Aw, come on," Nat leaned over him, brushing his hair from his face and placing a tender peck to his cheek. "How 'bout I make us some coffee, and a good breakfast before work today?" She suggested, watching his brows pull up in interest. "Come on, get up and get showered. You smell like skag." She pushed at his shoulder, earning a groan from the boy as he rolled onto his back again. She smiled and got up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing. "They got clean water~" At the suggestion of clean, unsmelly, non-slimy water, Cutiepie perked up, getting out of bed with new vigor and making his way to the bathroom, Nats laughter following him even as she made her way to the kitchen.

Snitch and Stitch were lounging on the couch, both of them passed out and not alert enough to notice their owner walk past them. This had the mechanic chuckling as she prepped her shiny new to her coffee maker. 

By the time Cutiepie was finished showering, Nat had prepared a simple egg breakfast with slivers of skag meat bacon, her skags yelping at her feet, begging for attention. He came out with a towel around his waist and accepted the coffee and plate of food she thrust into his hands. He sat down at the small round table by the kitchen and sleepily ate his food, sipping at the black coffee in his mug. He watched Nat move from one side of the kitchen to the other, cleaning up after her mess, feeding leftover eggs to her skags, not having the heart to give them leftover skag meat. 

Once the kitchen was clean enough, she looked up at a clock above the tv and cursed, pulling her oversized t-shirt off and running towards the bathroom. "Get dressed! The Calypso's said a priest will stop by at around 8 to show us where to go!" Nat called out from the bathroom, receiving a grunt of acknowledgment from Cutiepie.

A hot shower and an hour later, there was banging on the front door, the skags howling at it, scratching. A sharp whistle cut through the clamoring of the two skags and they quieted, looking back at the owner of the sound. Nat was emerging from the bedroom, pulling her hair up into a tight ponytail, her red CoV bandana wrapped around her hairline. She was wearing dark blue coveralls, buttoned all the way up, save for the first two which showed just a glimmer of her collarbone. The baggy suit completely covered her curves, giving her a short, stubby look. Nat hated baggy clothing, finding that they typically get caught in everything, especially while working on cars- her primary expertise. But, given that they were smeared in grease and oil, and had _Scars _sewn into a white nametag at her left breast, she assumed these used to be her Pa's. They were worn and heavy, itchy against her skin, but they smelled of him, something she didn't realize she missed when she found them in her closet. Rust, oil, exhaust, and dirt. A smell that reminded her of home, and made her feel closer to Walker. 

Knocking at the door reminded her of the time and she quickly rushed past Cutiepie, who was still sleepily buttoning up his coveralls, and pushed her skags out of the way and opened the door. 

Standing on the other side, filling in the small space of the hallway, dominating the doorway with his height, stood Troy, a satisfied smirk on his lips at seeing the shock on her face. "Happy to see me?"

Nat blinked, glancing back at her apprentice before turning her gaze upwards towards Troy. She took note of a priest standing behind him, cloaked in red robes, a psycho mask covering his face. She peered down the hallway as much as she could, seeing that it was just these two, standing outside her home. 

"Father Troy," she finally acknowledged him, catching the way his smirk faltered at hearing her call him that. "What do I owe the honor for your visit?" She tried to keep her voice calm, feeling Cutiepie come up to her from behind, pulling Stitches back by her collar. 

"Came to take you to the meeting," he said, glancing inside at the apprentice, noticing that between the two of them, both of their hair was wet. His voice was less excited now, but he tried to hide his disappointment at seeing how quickly she went to falling in line. "Personal tour and all that."

"What an honor," her expression remained neutral and she turned to look inside. "Hon', take the skags with you, okay? I don't trust them not to eat the furniture." 

"Alright," her apprentice nodded his head and Nat stepped out of her apartment and around Troy. When he stepped in line next to her, the priest stayed by the door, waiting until Cutiepie came out with the skags on their leashes. Troy and Nat were down the hall and outside of the large concrete building before they even had a chance to catch up, standing in the empty streets of the CoV hub. Hardly anyone was wandering around outside this early in the morning, either because they had their own work to be doing, or because they hid inside when the Gods walked the streets, Nat wasn't too sure. But it was quiet and hot, the sweltering heat causing sweat to bead at the back of her neck already.

"Damn, I had forgotten how much this dry heat sucked," Nat huffed, relaxing now that they were away from any prying eyes. She pulled at the button of her coveralls, trying to get some cool air by wafting it softly. She looked up at him when he didn't respond, seeing his eyes fixated ahead of him, his brows furrowed in frustration. "So used to the muggy weather of Eden-6... more comfortable wearing less clothing I guess." She didn't look away from him as she spoke, her brow raising when he didn't even look down at her. She rolled her eyes, looking ahead of her, trying to maintain her composure. 

_He got what he wanted from me, _she thought, swallowing hard and looking down at her boots, dust kicking up around her as they walked. _I don't know why I expected anything else._ She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing the way his eyes creased as he glared ahead of him, the heavy sound of his footsteps as he stomped. _No, somethings wrong with him._ She concluded, and grabbed his wrist, causing him to turn his glare down onto her. "Troy, what's wrong?"

"Oh, so now it's Troy?" He asked, pulling his arm away from her, walking away, leaving Nat standing there dumbfounded.

"Troy," she called after him, trying to keep her laughter from bubbling out and grabbed his arm again. "Are you mad that I called you Father Troy?" She teased, watching his cheeks turn pink in shame. A small giggle came out and Troy whipped around sharply to glare at her, hating the way her lips looked when she smiled. 

"No," he said not too convincingly, pulling his arm from her again. He growled when she giggled, reaching around him to place her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to her level.

"You're a really bad liar, Father Troy." She said, watching his nose scrunch up as he pulled back from her. 

"Shut up," he grumbled, unable to fight the blush any further as it crept into his ears. He walked away from her, leaving her in the empty roads, hearing her trot up to him and latch onto his arm, pulling it between her breasts.

"Well, can you blame me? Calling you without a title in front of one of your followers?" She asked, looking up at him slightly. He slowed his pace just enough that she didn't struggle to keep up with him. "I haven't been around other cultists in a long time. Some of them are extremists and I don't want to risk something happening because I didn't call you the right thing."

He grumbled, hating that she made sense. In the past, he and Tyreen have had people punished for not calling them by their titles. It was a known rule around them that they were to be addressed with respect. "I don't know..." he mumbled. "Kinda like that you don't call me that, I guess." He shrugged, never realizing how taxing it was to always be considered a God. "It's refreshing, I guess." He seemed unsure, shrugging his shoulders with mock indifference.

"Uh-huh," she smiled softly at him, watching his brows knit together in his uncertainty. He was kind of cute when he was confused. "I'll save the name-calling for when other people are around, deal?" She turned her gaze away from him when he looked down at her, opting to pretend she wasn't just caught staring at him. He eased up some next to her, and the two fell in step together, Troy finally taking the time to show her where the Head Council Meetings took place.

* * *

The CoV Hub Center was a massive building, literally smack in the middle of the entirety of the hub. It consisted of a large above-ground arena the Calypsos used for special Let's Flay events, housed the Calypsos and hundreds of CoV workers that maintained the hub center, with a large cathedral attached to it, which would make doing Nats required sermon attendances relatively easy. On her way up there, Troy motioned towards several abandoned-looking buildings in the distance, at the very back of the hub center entrance, near the entrance of the compound and explained that was the warehouse district where all repair orders were filled out and completed. Each large building had its own use, but the largest one was the garage, used for the various types of vehicles that came in and out of the compound. She was excited to see it, even from a distance, feeling her heart buzzing in her chest when she got the slightest whirring sound of power tools. She couldn't wait.

The entrance to the hub center was surrounded by turrets and guards, indicating that this area of the compound was off-limits to the public despite its central position. Nat and Troy walked past a few guards with ease, but she could feel their stares on her through their masks. She was suddenly so nervous, a heavy feeling weighing on her chest as they walked deeper and deeper into the building, past several working priests and fanatics passing by them, bowing in reverence when they saw Troy. He ate up the attention, and she shook her head at him, amazed at the sudden change in behavior considering he was pouting not too long ago.

She chose to stuff that down as he led her into a large open space, their boots clicking on the metallic ground. It was a round room with a dome ceiling, Nat noticing taught chains along the edges of the roof, indicating that it opened up with a pulley system. At the very back on top of an elevated dais were two thrones, one with spikes all around the trim of the back, with a human skull mounted at the very tip of the back with the CoV symbol painted on it in red, next to it rested a long, wide metal sword leaning against the arm. Troy's throne. Beside his throne, was Tyreens, which was sleek and elegant with red satin cushions and her regal coat draped over the back of it, covering yet another mounted human skull over with the same CoV painted mark. 

"You really do have thrones," Nat found herself saying, hearing Troy snicker next to her and flushing. _I need to work on my head-to-mouth filter..._

"We are royalty after all," Troy mused, walking ahead of her now, Nat reluctantly following him as he went behind the thrones and to reveal a door, hidden in the darkness of the room and opened it. 

Six sets of eyes raised up from plates of food, resting on Troy as he entered and stepped aside to reveal Nat, nervously standing at the doorway. It was a banquet table, six people sitting around the table stuffing their faces full of delicious smelling food, chunks of meat at the center of the table, bread, jams, eggs, pretty much anything someone could want for breakfast. It made Nats mouth water despite that she already had a full belly from her own breakfast. At the head of the table, sitting in a simple but elegant chair was the God Queen, her eyes narrowing just a bit when she saw Troy enter with the mechanic. 

_So that's where he went off to so early in the morning. _She mused, sitting back in her chair, her food long gone from her mind now. 

To the right of her was a large bruiser of a man, who hadn't stopped stuffing his face despite the entrance of one of his royalty. He was a fattening, balding older man with muscles rippling in one arm, his other arm nothing more than a skimpy looking robotic arm that could use some _serious _modifications. To the bruisers right was a skinny looking man in red robes, the hood down. He was the only one to stand when Troy entered and bowed, and when he looked up, Nat saw a CoV symbol she wasn't too familiar with. She had seen it a few times on her walk up here with Troy, but nothing prompted her to ask about it until now. Carved into the man's forehead was an eye with CoV etched in, the O circled over and over again, making it strangely look like a pupil. 

"Fater Troy," The priest said, his voice grim, kind of like his appearance and the way the man's eyes settled on Nat made her uncomfortable like he was seeing through her. Troy strutted into the room with a wave, walking over to the empty seat to Tyreens left and sat down, the two muttering something together. The priest finally sat down and Nat looked at the three people sitting on the opposite side of the table. A large woman with muscles bulging out of her clothes held onto two pieces of meat in each fist mounted to the teeth with weapons. She had guns holsters at her side, holding two shiny pistols, a Gatling gun at her back, and a shot got on her hip. She seemed to be too entranced with her meal to care too much about Nat's presence, but there was a moment the two of them exchanged glances. Next to her was a shriveling old man with a bionic eye, looking at something down on his echo device, not paying attention to the food in front of him or the newcomer in the room. He was wearing a shabby looking white lab coat, stained red with blood and Nat wondered if he was supposed to be some kind of doctor? He looked like he was too old to hold a scalpel, let alone perform any kind of basic first aid. And then next to him was yet another large human being, hunching over something on his echo device too, muttering to himself.

Nat looked at each person with a skeptical look in her eyes, feeling unsure of herself now. Everyone in the room was older. Not just older than her, but older than the twins too. People that had years in their professions, years of servicing the Twin Gods. Experience under their belts that she couldn't possibly measure up to. And her father used to be a member.

_Fuck, I have some big shoes to fill. _She swallowed back her nerves, finding an empty seat next to the priest and sitting down by him. She nervously bit her lip and looked down at the empty place setting in front of her, not comfortable with serving herself food, especially when she wasn't even hungry, to begin with. _Just what kind of meeting is this supposed be, anyway? Sunday brunch? _Though it was too early to be called brunch, it sure as hell didn't feel like a meeting to her.

Tyreen clearing her throat stilled all movement in the room. People that were eating stopped eating, the two looking at their echo devices looked up. Tyreen stood up, one hand on her hip and a plastic smile on her lips. "Wow, don't I know how to command a room?" She asked, snickering at everyone as they settled into their chairs, their food forgotten now. "Well, as we all know, we have a new member joining our council today," Tyreen gestured for Nat to stand which she hastily did, accidentally kicking the table as did, cursing to herself at her clumsiness. "Everyone, meet Old Man Walker's son!" She clapped her hands with fake enthusiasm. Everyone clapped, though with notable less vigor than the God Queen. "Go on now, introduce yourself." Tyreen grinned at Nat, seeing her nervous stance.

"Uh, well, I'm Nate Scars." She shrugged one shoulder, finding it was probably easier to just let everyone call her Nate. She silently cursed her pa for the terrible nickname and continued. "Walker was my pa. And I guess.. he chose me as his successor for his position? So... I guess that means I'm the new Chief Mechanic."

"It's good to meet you," the mountainous woman from across the table stood up and stretched her arm over, taking Nat's hand and shaking it with vigor. "I'm Francine, everyone around here calls me Mad Fran though. I'm the Calypsos military general. I took over after ViVi passed away a few years ago."

Nat looked at the large woman, stunned, letting her shake her hand without thinking too much in returning the handshake. "You mean my ma was in this too?" She asked, breathless.

"Oh yea, your parents wouldn't stop talking about how proud they were of their kid. They were one of the first members of this council, their advice was well appreciated here." The woman said, taking her hand back and sitting down. Nat frowned, sinking into her chair, her mind spinning with the realization that she didn't know much about her folks anymore.

"I have some big ass shoes to fill..." she muttered, not even realizing she spoke aloud until she heard laughter from Troy, which was followed by the chortle of Mad Fran and the chuckle of the bruiser sitting on the opposite side of the priest.

"No kiddin', kid." The bruiser said, leaning forward over the table so he could look at Nat, a wide grin on his face. "I'm Captain Grant, I oversee the bandit guard here in the hub." He stretched out a hand, Nat extending hers and the two shook in front of the priest, who seemed to be annoyed by it. "Don't mind stink face over here, he doesn't talk too much unless its to preach at you."

Nat couldn't help the snort that came out of her, swiftly looking away from the priest as he glared down at her, everyone else at the table snickering at Grant's shitty joke.

"I am High Priest Creature," the priest said, showing his displeasure by glaring at everyone at the table save for the two snickering twins. "I look after the well being of all of the disciples under the glory of the Twin Gods. I oversee all church sermons and baptisms held here in the hub." His eyes squinted at her. "Which I do not recall you ever taking part in."

"That's because I joined the CoV when my folks did. Years before _you _became some highfalutin priest, let alone a member yerself. But if ya have doubts about my loyalty to the Twin Gods, I'd be more than happy to prove you wrong." Nat stood up, glaring down at the priest in front of her. She had a real problem with people questioning her loyalty, her sanity, her state of mind. It happened everywhere she went. She got the short end of the stick throughout her life because she chose to join a cult before leaving home. 

"She sounds like Walker when she gets mad," the man across from her wearing the bloody lab coat spoke up, breaking the tension in the room. "That accent comes out."

Nat's cheeks turned red and she sank into her chair again, turning away from everyone. On Promethea, she quickly learned that no one wanted anything to do with some bumpkin from the wastes so she learned to hide her accent, the years of practice of doing it followed her even after leaving the Merdian Metroplex. But it seemed no amount years of practice could stop it from coming out when she was mad.

"Yeah, she may sound like Walker but that short fuse felt like ViVi to me," Mad Fran added, the conversation continuing normally as Nat fumed. "She hated having her loyalties questioned."

"Well there's no need to worry, she's definitely a member of the family," Troy cut in, Nat looking up when she heard his voice. She half wondered if he was going to make her show everyone her mark, not that it bothered her really but did anyone here really need to know why exactly Troy knew where it was? Still, she mentally prepped herself for stripping, grateful she was wearing a tank top under her coveralls instead of one of her long shirts. "Her workshop on Eden-6 was covered in CoV branding, and there isn't a single outpost we have out there yet."

"Well, does she have an official mark?" Mad Fran asked curiously noticing that unlike a lot of the other females at the hub, Nat's mark was hidden. 

Nat held back a groan. Stripping it is. 

She stood up again, pushing away from the table and started unbuttoning her coveralls, catching the look of surprise on people's faces at her willingness to cooperate. She unbuttoned her pas coveralls all the way down to her waist, tugging her arms from the sleeves so that when she pulled back the dark fabric, it was easier to catch sight of her mark. Grant whistled in approval, Mad Fran tossing a fork at the bruiser to shut him up. 

"See, now we all gotta show her our marks. Except for you, Creature. We all see your mark." Grant said, standing up and turning his back to Nat, showing the deep etchings of his mark branded on his shoulder blade. "Mine was on my arm but well," he wiggled mechanical fingers at her. Mad Fran stood up next and turned to the side, showing the long scars going across her entire arm, CoV carved into her muscles. The old doctor looking man stood up as well, peeling back his coat to show his mark on his shoulder.

"My name is Russ," He said to her in introduction. "The medical general."

The large man sitting next to him stood up and started lifting his shirt up, everyone at the table, Creature included suddenly screamed "NO!" so loudly Nat about fell over on the spot. The large man frowned, looking over everyone with a displeased look on his face. "We're all showing our marks," he stated, seeming to be confused why he was stopped.

"Yeah, but if you take that shirt off, you're going to wind up taking everything else off, and then we're never going to get you into clothes again," Mad Fran huffed, smiling apologetically at Nat. "I guess I started something I shouldn't have. This is Darryl, but we all call him Fidgets cause the bastard can't keep his clothes on for more than a day. He's supposed to be the lead eridian specialist here."

"What do you mean by 'supposed to be'?" Darryl kind of glared at Mad Fran but the military general continued, ignoring him.

"Welcome back to the CoV, Nate." 


	4. Compensation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its taken a while to post this, but I've had a lot of things going on at home, so im sorry about that ya'll. hope you enjoy

"You must be compensating for something," Nat's tone was thick with sarcastic amazement. Her eyes traveled over the massive technical before her, which in all honesty could be considered a tank. It had heavy metal armor surrounding its entire body, painted with the symbol of the twin gods, the two skulls and vipers, with a beautiful spray-painted image of a middle finger on the back of the truck bed flap. It had a sharp, jagged grill, stained red with blood, the sight making Nat tingle in excitement. The hood meant to cover the engine was missing, leaving the smoking piece of artwork inside exposed, revealing all of its sleek and greased up metal innards.

She drooled.

She loved Troys Technical. It was massive, taking up one whole side of the warehouses' garage, leaving very little room to work between, but Nat was small. Small and completely capable of climbing into the truck. The tires were taller than she was, and the fenders over the tires were spiked and pointy and they looked like they could spear right through a muscled Goliath with no trouble.

"You should know more than anyone here whether that's true or not," Troy's sultry remark caught Nat's attention and the smile that graced her lips was tinted with mischief.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Father Troy." The innocent tone of her voice didn't match her expression as she switched conversation topics. "So, what seems to be the problem?" She asked, looking him over, noticing that sexy way his mouth smirked at her before he passed her.

He easily pulled himself into the truck, sliding into the front seat, and started the engine. It sputtered, the starter grinding as he tried to turn the engine on. Finally, after three or four turns, it hummed to life, the entire body of the truck trembling with the power of the engine. Nat could hear something clanking around inside and she quickly pulled herself up over the front tire fender and peered inside of the truck. Dark gray smoke billowed out from deep below, clouding her view no matter how much of it she tried to swipe away.

"And that's not all," Troy hopped out of the truck, leaving the engine running as he walked up to where she was.  
Curiously she watched him as he held his arms out to her, clearly waiting for her to climb into them to help her down. She took a moment to look around her, swallowing cautiously as every other mechanic in the warehouse was watching the two of them, waiting. She could see Cutiepie stuffed in the very back with the skags, watching her just like everyone else was. Then she looked back down at the expectant Troy, who had an innocent gleam in his eyes, and a thoughtful smile on his thin lips. Nat frowned, sitting down on the fender and sliding off on her own, ignoring Troy's hands.

She could physically feel Troy falter at her rejection. He took a step back from her, took a moment to compose himself, and then walked away towards the back of the truck. Nat followed behind him, feeling the tension building between them and tried hard to hide it from the others. Knowing that everyone in the warehouse was watching them made her nervous like she was being put on the spot. She swallowed down her nerves as Troy went behind the technical.

Nat was surprised just how much space the technical took up. There were about eight feet of wiggle room between the back of the technical and the wall, just enough room for Troy to stand shoulder to shoulder behind it. With his foot, he motioned towards a crushed muffler, smoke slowly billowing out of it.

"Need a new one of these too," he stated, crossing his arms and leaning against the side of his truck. She could see he was trying to not let her rejection affect him as well, and she giggled.

"Father Troy, do you not know what a muffler is?" She teased.

Pink spread out over his cheeks and he straightened up quickly. "Y-Yes I do!" He insisted but her laughter only further embarrassed him and he grunted his disapproval. She smiled at the embarrassed flush on his cheeks, and relaxed when he seemed to forget his tension. 

"So, somethings wrong with the alternator, something is rattling around in the engine, and ya need a new muffler," she bent down, inspecting the muffler and eventually standing up to kick the useless material off herself. "Alright then, the muffler is the easiest. I brought a box of my good stuff from my shop on Eden-6." She informed him, walking away from the technical, Troy staggering to catch up. She climbed up into the front seat and removed the key, tucking it into the breast pocket of her coveralls. 

When the engine died down, she looked down at Troy from her spot on his seat. "It might take me a few days to run my diagnosis on it."

"Walker said there was something wrong with the starter," a mechanic from across the room spoke out suddenly, reminding the God-King and the Mechanic they weren't alone. 

_It's damn easy to forget my surroundings with him around sometimes... _Nat looked Troy over for a moment before she turned her eyes to the grease monkey that spoke up. 

He was an average-sized man with large hands and greasy fingers. He wore the same blue coveralls as Nat's, with the name _Greeze _scrawled over his left breast.

"Well, I ain't Walker." Nat hopped off the seat, walking up to the man named Greeze. He was about a foot taller than her. About the same size as Troy, but Greeze was more buff in comparison. "And I love my daddy, but from my understandin', he should have retired years ago." As she got closer to him, the skags that had sat calmly at Cutiepie's feet sprang up, quickly running to their mistresses aid. "Now, _he _might have thought it was the starter. But I ain't him, now am I? Do I seem manly to you, Greeze?" She gestured to her coveralls, which despite that it made her look short and stumpy, it was hard to miss the large sloping of her breasts hidden beneath it all. Snitch and Stitch were already at her sides, growling and snarling.

"Uh, no..." Greeze took one look at her before he looked back at some of the other mechanics. Now they were watching them, instead of Father Troy.

"Is my name Walker?" She asked, crossing her arms beneath that plump chest of hers.

"No," he swallowed.

"No, what?" She tapped her foot, her eyes cold, her skags snapping.

"Uh, no, ma'am." Greeze took a small step backward. 

"So why in the name of the Twins would I stick with his diagnostic instead of making my own?" She asked Greeze. People were snickering. Greeze stumbled over his words a bit, but eventually said nothing to her and looked down at his feet, shame washing over him. She rolled her eyes and walked back towards Troy. "Anyway," she declared a bit loudly. Cutiepie got to work, and eventually, after a few minutes of silence from her, everyone else did too, even her skags relaxed. "It'll take me a few days to run my tests. I'll replace the muffler today, then run my tests."

"A few days?" Troy frowned at that, looking over his technical as if he was a man whose heart just got broken.

"Lighten up, will ya?" Nat elbowed his ribs, causing him to look down at her and rub his side. "She'll be fine. If you're that choked up about her, you can always visit her." She teased, elbowing him again. He grumbled a response and continued to rub the spot she bumped him in. "Now, why don't you go and do your godly duties, or whatever it is ya do around here, and I'll do what I was brought here to do." 

Troy looked back at his technical, then down at Nat, who had a teasing gleam in her eye, and sighed loudly. 

"Fine, but I will be back soon." He stated.

"Of course, Father Troy. Wouldn't have it any other way." She watched him as he walked away off, smiling mostly to herself. 

* * *

Nat took in a deep slow breath and huffed it out in one loud sigh. She leaned back, putting some space between the back of Troys technical and her, leaning against the wall behind her. She slowly slid down onto the ground and groaned lowly to herself, wiping her forehead with a greasy hand.

"All done?" Cutiepies' voice cut into Nat's moment of peace and she looked up at him. Both her skags were at his sides, panting. Cutiepie himself looked a little ragged. His hair was messier than usual, and his coveralls -which he had long since tied around his waist- hung loosely on his hips, his white t-shirt stained black with oil. 

"Yeah," Nat smiled weakly at her apprentice, looking back over at her project for the day. 

Troy's muffler.

The bane of her existence.

All-day, she struggled with it. His technical was too heavy to jack up and too large to fit onto any lifts, so she started her morning awkwardly bent under the truck to try and get a look at what she needed to work on.

The next issue was that the exhaust pipe for his technical needed to be completely replaced. It was rusted to the point it had become brittle and broke almost as soon as Nat's socket wrench hit the pipe. She spent a good long time struggling to get the metal out and off. She twisted her back, bumped her head and cursed pretty much well into the late afternoon. Once she had the main exhaust replaced she could finally install the new muffler. 

Except for the problem with that was she couldn't find the right bolts to use to connect everything. If it was her old shop, they would have been right next to her workstation.

But here, her workstation was on the backside of the warehouse shoved into a corner next to all the good supplies, way too far away from the technical. It took a while for anyone to realize she had been looking for her workstation (everyone seemed to keep away from her for the time being), and then took even longer to find the right bolts to use.

Needless to say, her daddy was not a very organized man. She scoffed at that. He never had been.

"Uh, Nat?" Cutiepie spoke up again, catching the mechanics attention.

"Yeah, sorry, Cutiepie. My back is killing me right now." She waved his concern for her off with her hand.

"Need any help getting up? It's dark out, almost everyone has already left for the day." He knelt next to her so they were eye level and she just shook her head.

"Of course they went, when I ain't lookin'," her eyes rolled. "I'm fine, hon, don't mind me." She patted his cheek with one dark stained hand. "You head on back too, alright? Take the skags with ya, make em somethin' to eat and I'll be home shortly."

"Are you sure?" His brows knitted together in concern, and her smile turned soft.

"Yea, baby, I'm going to sit here for a minute then check on a few things before I leave." Cutiepie frowned a little, but nodded and stood up.

"Well... don't work yourself too hard, Nat. You know what happens when you do that." His tone was light and teasing, and she threw mock laughter at him while he left the warehouse.

Silence permeated the air in his absence. There was no noise in the warehouse. No outside noise. No chatter, no radio, no tv. Complete and utter silence. It was quiet enough it was almost eerie.

After several long minutes of her sitting on the floor, she eventually pulled herself up and made her way to the front of the technical. "I think I can get a few more things done before I call it a night." She decided, pulling herself up over the left tire fender and dipped down to look closer at the engine.

* * *

Loud, almost exaggerated moaning filled Troy's room. The loud pleasure filled cries were coming from a cute busty brunette sitting on top of Troy's dick. He was laid stretched out on his bed, watching the girls fake tits half heartily bounce, his hand on her hip, guiding her motions, his thumb pressed into the groove. He was borderline disappointed there wasn't a mark there. No scar he could trace. It was kind of boring.

_Wait am I actually bored right now?_ Troy asked himself, looking up at the girl as she bounced, tuning out to her god awful moaning and came to the conclusion that yes. He was in fact bored. He kind of scoffed at the realization. He doesn't really remember her name (he never really did remember their names), but he did remember actually liking this one before. Nice tits, even though they were fake. It just was never so obvious before? _Or was it? _He thought back to the soft, plump flesh of his Chief Mechanics tits, the soft, almost hefty weight of them in his hand, the way they seeped through his fingertips when he squeezed. He almost groaned at the memory. He wanted to touch them, and he knew touchy the brunettes wouldn't even be close.

"I think they're bigger?" He muttered it out loud, reaching out to take the humping girl's breast in his hand. 

Disappointment. 

The mechanics were definitely bigger. Not by much, but just enough he could feel the difference. Annoyed, Troy pulled his hand away and put back on her hips, feeling up her ass and finding even _that _was a disappointment. _Did I ever grab her ass? _He wondered, thinking back and finding it difficult to recall if he ever took that opportunity. _I bet it's nice and soft too._ He sighed at the thought, then remembered her bent over the hood of a truck. _Nah she'd have a nice firm ass. Great hips too. _Hips that were perfect for holding onto and fucking into that taut ass of hers.

"Damn it," he pushed the brunette off of him, onto the other side of the bed. At first, she thought he was going to have his way with her but instead found him pulling on his boxers and then his jeans. "You can go, I'm bored with you." He stated, tugging his pants up to his waist and buckling them.

"B-but.. Father Troy..." Her high pitched voice hurt his ears and her whimpering made him cringe. 

"Would you rather I have you sent to the pit instead?" He asked her, giving her an over the shoulder glare. "You know what they do to washed up girls like you." He saw her face contort with rage, disgust, disappointment, and despair. "Get out." He motioned with his chin towards the door and the girl quickly gathered what little article of clothing she had and rushed out the door. 

"Oof, it smells like stale sex and sweat in here." Tyreens voice came from the door way, but Troy didn't look up as he pulled his jacket on over his mechanical arm. "What sent little Marie scampering?"

"I think her name was Jasmine?" Troy sat down on his bed, pulling on his boots.

"Whatever, what sent the tramp running down the hall with her ass out?" Tyreen leaned against his doorframe, watching him as he put on his second boot. "And where are you going this late at night?"

"It's not that late," Troy scoffed, barely glancing at the time on his echodevice. 11:30pm. _Okay maybe it is a little late. _

"Uh huh," Tyreen didn't sound so convinced and she pushed herself away from the frame and walked towards his bed, stopping so she was standing just in front of him. 

He only looked up at her once he finished lacing his boots. "What?"

"You're gonna go see that mechanic." She observed, her tone bordering on accusatory.

He rolled his eyes at her, standing up. "She's working on my technical, yes I'm going to see her." He tried to step around her, but Tyreen, swift as ever stepped right back in front of him before he could get too far.

"At eleven o clock at night? I don't think so, the warehouse should be closed." She wouldn't let up, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed into the perfect "you're-not-getting-away-with-shit" glare.

"Oh my shit, Tyreen, she asked me to stop by," _not really I just told her I'd stop by. _But Tyreen didn't need to know that.

Tyreen huffed, tossing her hands up into the air in typical melodrama fashion, turning away from him and walking away, only to turn back and glare at him now. "You aren't going to start doing this shit, Troy." She snarled up at him

"What shit?" He snarled back.

"This," she waved her arms around haphazardly, pretty much gesturing to their surroundings, but at nothing in particular. "This, thing you do, with women. Someone sends you a hot girl as a gift you use her for a few months and you throw her out." He looked taken aback, his eyes squinting in confusion.

"The fuck does this have to do with the mechanic?" He asked, despite knowing _exactly _where she was going with this.

"You are not going to fuck things up with her," She jabbed his bare chest with the tip of her finger, her nail slightly digging into the skin, leaving behind a nice, thin curved indent. "You are not to sleep with her. You are NOT to get into a further physical relationship with her. You're to leave her alone and let her do her job, damn it." She huffed, jabbing his chest one more time. "Because when you ultimately get bored of her, she's going to be like every other girl you throw away and turn into a useless, sobbing mess."

Troy rolled his eyes, grabbing Tyreens hand and moving it aside so he can walk past her with ease. "Would you just relax? It's not like that." 

Tyreen grabbed his by the arm, pulling him back. "Are you serious right now? Are you really going to straight-up lie to me like that? I'm your _twin, _Troy."

"Yeah but only when it's convenient for you," he yanked his arm away. "Any other time I'm just your _parasite._" At those last words, he left, not bothering to close his bedroom door behind him, leaving Tyreen standing in his room, fuming.

* * *

Troy stepped out into the lukewarm evening air, looking back and forth outside the hub. It was rowdier at night than it was during the day. Most of the cultists had jobs they had to go to, that they were required to go to, so morning into the early evening the hub was dead silent, save for a few people who were transporting equipment between districts. At night though is when they came out to play. Things were on fire that should definitely not be on fire, blood smears on the wall, there was a midget skewered on the wall laughing maniacally with an amber bottle in his hand. Someone on the ground floor was standing there trying to throw darts at him. 

And Troy was pretty sure that was outside a storage building. The bar was down the road.

He shook his head at the sight and went towards the barren roads, ready to go greet Nat her apartment when he spotted her apprentice, Cutiepie walking towards the building, away from the warehouse district. Her skags was by his side.

"Come on you two," Cutiepie spoke to the skags. "Let's make your mama's favorite food for dinner tonight." Both skags howled at him, trotting behind him as he disappeared into the residential district.

_So she's still at the warehouse, _He smiled at the realization, turned, and headed down the pathway leading to the mechanic's district.

* * *

When Troy walked into the warehouse, loud blaring dubstep music echoed throughout the empty building. There was a woman rapping over the radio, but Troy barely make out the woman's words as she sped through her lyrics. The upbeat tempo of the song was enough that he half expected to see strobe lights and people dancing but all he saw was the round, taut ass of Nate Scars.

She wasn't bent over like he wanted but instead was standing in the middle of the warehouse with her jumper suit off, body grooving to the music. Her hips swayed along with the beat, her wild hair loose and tumbling down her waist in tangled waves. Just like the first night he met her, she wore shorts that were too small for her, bits of the fatty tissue of her ass cheeks hung out past the torn hems. Troy pictured grabbing it, and before he could think about his actions, he had a hand full of her ass.

She jumped at the sudden touch, looking back to see him over her shoulder and then grinding her ass against his front. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. The song came to a slow close and she turned around to face him, taking a remote from her front pocket out and pause the radio as a new song started.

"You're here pretty late," she said, letting Troy pull her arms over his shoulders so she leaned against him. 

"So are you," he added, looking into the devilish gleam of her eyes and smiling again. "Dancing, I might add." He squeezed her ass and she pressed her body against his.

"Mouthpiece has a good setlist," her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink at the admission as if it was something to be embarrassed about. Troy thought that the soft color in her cheeks was cute, it matched the perfect shade of her plump limps. He leaned forward, his hand at the back of her neck and tilting her head up. "What are you doing?" She asked, her voice soft and breathless, her eyes never wavering from his.

"You're pretty," he said softly, causing the pink in her cheeks to rise, turning to an almost tomato red. She quickly pulled away from him, putting some much needed distance between them and turned back towards his technical, trying to distract her brain. Cold metallic fingers gripped her upper arm just above her elbow, stopping her from making a full retreat. "What? What did I say?" She tried pulling her arm back from his grip but the metal fingers wouldn't budge. "Natalie," he tugged her towards him a little. She stumbled but kept herself standing on her own two feet. Her heart squeezed a little at hearing him say her full name for the first time. When she looked up at him there was affection in her eyes from it. 

"I just wish you wouldn't say that," she admitted quietly. Once she stopped trying to pull her arm away from him, the metal hand slid down to her hand, tugging her closer to his direction.

"Why?" He asked and with his human hand reached out and tucked strands of her hair back behind her ear.

_Because it's not true, _the back of her mind whispered to her and she tried to push it down, shaking her head and loosening the hair he just tucked away. "I just would rather you didn't say it."

Troy took a moment to look at her. _Really look at her. _There was a shy blush in her cheeks, a dark insecurity in her eyes he hadn't seen on anyone before, nor did he ever expect to see on someone he thought was so sexy. She looked visibly uncomfortable and he nodded his head and tucked her hair back again. "Alright, Natalie. If that's what you want."

Her heart squeezed again at hearing her name on his lips and she tried to control the beating in her chest. "D-don't call me that, either." She said. "I don't like being called by my name."

_LIES._

"Lotta rules, little mechanic," he narrowed his eyes, suddenly yanking her close to him so her body pressed against his tight. 

"You don't like me calling you Father Troy." She pointed out and his eyes narrowed further. He thought for a moment briefly of her calling out Father Troy while he fucked her and decided he liked the idea much better when she was just calling his name.

"Okay fine, but you're not allowed to call me Father Troy at all." He said, tilting her chin up towards him. "It's Troy, all the time. And I get to call you my little mechanic." She kind of smiled then laughed and nodded her head in slight agreement.

They smiled mischievously at each other until their lips met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I struggled to write this chapter. When I first started to write it, I had just gotten news about my dog getting put down and I wasn't able to touch writing for a while, especially this one. Lately, I've gotten back into it but I've rewritten this chapter like six or seven times and I'm still not satisfied. I'm sorry this took so long ya'll, I'll try to post better in the future.


	5. Temptations and Frustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy is beginning to really like the company of his new mechanic and constantly craves a physical connection with her, but with Tyreen demanding he leaves her alone, and Nats apprentice always interfering, he struggles with his libido while Nat unintentionally turns him on 24/7. What's a God King to do?

Soft humming filled the warehouse, followed by a sweet thumping of a bass. The sound slow and gentle, dragging out into a rhythmic pulse, the humming turning into sweetly whispered words. It was a significant change from the blaring bass of the dubstep song the mechanic had been listening to.

Nat’s muffled groaning cut the sound of the music off, her body twitching and aching as Troys nimble fingers skimmed up her back.

“It hurts…” She whined, looking back at him over her shoulder, cheeks flushed. Troy’s satisfied smirk was on his lips. 

“Big baby,” he teased softly, his human hand gripping her side roughly. “Just relax, Nat.” He urged gently. Nat struggled, adjusting her position so her chest pressed into the God King’s thighs, the pressure of her breasts squeezing his clothed cock as she settled onto his lap. Troys hand moved up the soft tissue of her back, palm pressing into the muscle, eliciting another groan from the mechanic as she hid her face into his leg. He smiled down at her, his thumb pressing into the hard knot he could feel in her lower back. He gently kneaded it with his fingers, laying his palm flush to her skin and rubbing up and down before squeezing the muscles in her side again. She hissed at him, and he laughed, prodding the tight muscle he felt twisting inside her. “Got a lot of knots.” He informed her. She nodded her head in agreement, turning it enough he could see the shimmering green of her eyes.

“Your truck did a number on my back today,” she muttered, causing Troy to laugh loudly, his one handed massage temporarily forgotten. 

They were in the “break room” of the warehouse. The break room was simply a rectangular room smack in the middle of the warehouse with large windows that took up each wall to show the warehouse around it. It was fitted with counters, working appliances like a sink and fridge and microwave, as well as a nice large tv. In the corners of the room hooked into the ceiling were large speakers allowing music to spill into the room. They had just cleaned out the room, apparently the other mechanics had chosen to use this more as a storage room than a break room, and usually left the large tv out in the warehouse on all hours of the working day. 

Nat absolutely despised the tv, but she knew others enjoyed it, and wanted to give them a space where they could sit for a while and relax and watch their stupid tv. While dragging out boxes, they found a long couch which they happily sat on as soon as the mechanic pulled a muscle lifting a heavy box. Troy insisted on giving her a back rub, which he happily returned to, admiring the way her spine curved, her shirt had been discarded onto the floor in front of them, giving him and unobstructed view of her curves. 

Troy had a lot of fetishes, he knew this. He liked blood play, biting his pets, torturing them while he fucked them, going so far as to even kill some while the fucked. He loved big tits and fat asses, and he loved a girl with a small waist. He was superficial in what he desired in a sexual partner and was easy to please despite his standards. 

But not once has he looked at the way a woman’s back curled and thought it was sexy. He’s seen it before, of course but he’s never been turned on as much as he was right now. She was stretched out over his lap like a lazy cat, her ass slightly raised causing her lower back to arc just softly enough he was sure she was doing it on purpose. With her ass slightly raised it increased the pressure on his legs from her breasts, which were pressed together like two soft marshmallows, with _just _the right amount of firmness and fluff. 

It was beautiful. It made his dick ache. Everything about her seemed to make his dick ache but of course, Tyreen’s warning echoed in his mind. 

He wasn’t supposed to fuck Nat. Groaning his displeasure, his hand fell onto her back side, feeling up her ass even as she started to sit up. Her dirtied hands pressed against his thigh as she held herself up, her gaze meeting his the emerald pools filled with concern. Even that was sexy to him. 

“You okay?” She asked, her voice soft, filled with that weirdly sexy concern of hers and Troy groaned again. 

_Fuck, Tyreen you just had to tell me no. _He growled to himself, fingers lightly tracing back up her spine. She shuddered at the light touch, but smile softly at him when his palm laid flat against her lower back again. “I’m fine,” he said cooly, returning her smile with one of his own. “Now lay back down, I’m not done with your massage.”

She shook her head at him, standing up and plucking her shirt off the floor. “It’s alright,” she said, tugging it over her head, down her shoulders and covering up the plump flesh of her breasts. 

“Come on, you still got knots.” He pushed his hand up her shirt, trying to get her to sit back down, not liking that she had covered herself up. 

“I’m fine,” she said, the shine in her eyes unreadable to Troy. “I’ll have Cutiepie give me a massage later.” She explained and Troy’s mood instantly soured, even as she sank to her knees in front of him. She parted his knees, slid between his thighs and rested her chest against his straining cock. Except he wasn’t as turned on as he normally would be. His mind was focused on that scrawny, puny little apprentice of hers touching her bare body while Nat moaned and groaned like she did for Troy.

“What’s your relationship with him anyway?” He finally asked, looking down at her. Her lips pressed together into a thin and she averted her gaze. A few moments of silence passed between them, until she leaned back and started to unbuckle his pants. He let her, watching as her expression became controlled, unreadable. Blank almost.

“He’s important to me,” she finally said, tugging his throbbing cock out from his pants. It twitched as her slender fingers gripped the base. She finally met his gaze again and she was back to that sultry seductress he had come to really enjoy. “Why?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as her tongue darted out to swipe at the precum that dripped from his tip. “Jealous?” She teased, smirking up at him with her lips brushing against the hood of his cock. 

Troy grunted, both wanting to shove his dick into her mouth to shut her up and pull away from her touch when he heard the warehouse door open. 

“Nat?” Cutiepies voice echoed in the warehouse. The mechanic immediately jumped up, all presence of that seductress side of her gone as she rushed around the couch to meet the apprentic  at the door to the break room.

_Fuck this kid is getting on my nerves. _Troy’s internal growl was angry and he leaned his head back against the couch, human arm stretched over the back with his mechanical one resting on the arm, his dick still out and throbbing. 

“There you are,” Cutiepie sounded relieved when he saw Nat emerge from the back room. “It’s been almost two hours.”

“I’m sorry,” Nat’s voice was as sweet as honey and Troy grunted disapproval. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, turning it to her apprentice. “Father Troy-“ He cleared his throat at her and she huffed. “Troy came by to see how the truck was going. Then he helped me clear the boxes out of the break room.” 

“I would have helped you with that,” disappointment laced Cutiepies voice.

“I know, baby,” Nat said and Troy made a face at hearing her call him baby. “It was a spur of the moment thing. We were just sitting down. Want to join us?” _What the fuck is she doing? _Annoyed Troy moved, putting his dick away and closing up his pants. 

“Oh, no. I made dinner. Your favorite.” Cutiepie said.

“Oh, well head on home I’ll be there in a minute.” Nat’s sugar coated words made Troy’s stomach churn.

“That’s what you said last time, Natalie.” Cutiepie sounded dismissive and Troy turned around to look at the two of them. He couldn’t see her apprentice past her ass, she was blocking the door way just enough neither person could see past her, but was leaning against the door frame in such a way that it wasn’t obvious that’s what she was doing. “I’ll wait for you outside, we can walk home together.”

“Alright, alright.” Troy could hear the eye rolling in her tone as she shifted her position and stood up right. “I’ll be out in a minute, just let me lock up really quick.” There was shuffling as Cutiepie walked away, then the sound of the warehouse door opening and closing. 

Silence stretched between them. At some point - and Troy didn’t know when it happened - the radio had cut off, falling silent just like the two of them.

“You let him call you Natalie,” after a few minutes of quiet, Troy spoke, his voice calm, chilled almost. But he felt this kind of sting in his chest that made him ache in a different way than his cock did. Nat took in a deep, slow breath and let it out, eventually turning around to face him. Her expression was once again unreadable, and much like Troys tone, was calm and collected. 

“I have to lock up, Troy.” Her voice was calm too, dismissive sounding almost and the God King didn’t like the way his name sounded on her lips with that tone. They stared at each other, Troy sitting down still looking over the couch, and Nat with her biceps clasped in her hands, almost looking as if she was trying to hold herself closer together. Eventually Troy stood up, walked around the couch and approached her. She looked away when he stood, staring down at the ground and he reached out and tilted her chin up. She swallowed, her eyes glued to his, finding that his own expression was unreadable and feeling almost scared at the sight. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Miss Mechanic.” He said softly, staring at her a moment longer before leaving the warehouse, seeing Cutiepie awkwardly standing nearby. Troy ignored him, walking past him as Nat came out behind him and locked the doors for the warehouse. 

“Ready to go, Cutie?” Nat smiled at her apprentice and latched onto his arm, pulling it between her breasts and lacing their fingers together. 

“Yeah,” the apprentices reply was short and the two continued on their way, eventually walking past Troy, who glared at the way they were walking. Nat rested her head on Cutiepie’s shoulder, and the apprentice squeezed the mechanics hand tightly. “You should take a bath too, it’ll help you relax tonight,” Cutiepie said. “I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Nat squeezed his arm tighter, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder, groaning in approval. “Love it when you wash my hair.” She said, ceasing her nuzzling to lean up and kiss the apprentice on the cheek. “Let’s hurry home, baby.” She smiled warmly at him, Cutiepie returning the smile.

Troy’s anger built the longer he watched them and his last thought that night as he went to bed was _I want to kill that kid._


End file.
